Crossing the Border
by jneill7677
Summary: Can an American woman help Greg cope with the events that changed his life forever? Or will her own problems be too much for him to bear?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything that comes directly from the show, Flashpoint, whether that be characters or plot. Everything else is mine, however.**

**A/N: This is my first fanfic, so please review and let me know what you think.**

CHAPTER 1

Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker sat alone at a table in O'Malley's Bar and Grill in downtown Toronto. His thoughts were not in the present as he nursed a Diet Coke, both hands holding the glass with his thumbs tracing random patterns through the condensation. He was thinking about how his life had changed since that fateful day eighteen months ago – the day he and his team of SRU officers saved the city from Marcus Faber's bomb spree – the day his life changed forever. As he sat there, he unconsciously rubbed his left leg, just above the knee. He couldn't say that it still hurt, but he was always aware of the injury that had ended his career at SRU.

His mind went back to that disastrous day, and he recalled when he was on the catwalk after the bomb was diffused. He lay on the ground, blood pouring from the wounds in his chest and thigh. He knew it was bad when he tasted blood in his mouth and felt it dribble out from between his lips. The sound of footsteps on the metal resounded in his ears, and he looked up into the end of Faber's handgun. In that moment, he knew he was going to die. He might have saved the innocent that day, but his life was now forfeit. His one regret was that he hadn't been able to spend as much time with Dean as he would have liked. His son had grown up without his father, and now he would have to go through the rest of his life without one as well. As he stared down the barrel of the gun, he sent out a silent "I'm sorry" to Dean. He only hoped that Faber was a good shot and ended it quickly.

He instinctively jumped when he heard the gunshots. It took him a few seconds to realize that Faber had dropped in front of him and was not moving. More footsteps approached, and he heard Eddie's voice, but he couldn't make out what he was saying. He felt Ed pick him up from the ground and hold him in his arms, but he didn't remember much about what happened after that. Ed had told him that he had lost so much blood that everyone thought he was dead. He was unconscious for two days after the shooting, during which time doctors performed two surgeries to save his life – one to repair the internal damage caused by the bullet to his chest, and the other to try to salvage his leg. His life was indeed saved, but his leg was not, at least, not entirely.

The bullet that ripped through his leg had done too much damage to his muscles and nerves for doctors to repair them to the point where he would recover completely. Although he was thankful that he was alive, the ruin of his leg left him with a permanent limp and the need for a cane. The wound had ended his career as an SRU officer, a post he had held for over a decade. He had been forced to retire from the SRU six months ago, and even though he enjoyed his new post as Head Instructor at the Ontario Police College, he missed the SRU more than he cared to admit to anyone. While he knew he would have had to retire some day, most officers got to choose the timing of their retirement. What hurt the most was that he'd had no choice in the matter. His leg simply would not let him do the job he loved.

"Hey, Greg!"

A voice broke his reverie, and he looked up to see Ed, Sam, Spike, and Wordy walking toward the table. The slight smile that crossed his face was a testament to the feelings he had for these four men. They had been the backbone of his team for so many years, and even though only Ed and Spike were still on Team One, they still met with Greg for dinner and drinks every Friday at O'Malley's to talk about their weeks and reminisce about old times.

"Hi, guys," he said as they all dropped into chairs around the table. "How was work today?"

Greg wasn't sure why he continued to ask that question every week. While he really was interested in the other men's lives, every time they recounted something that happened while on the job, an undefinable pain passed through him. Even Wordy, who had been transferred to Guns and Gangs after his diagnosis with Parkinson's, was still actively involved in actual police work, even if it was from behind a desk, and, unlike Greg, Wordy requested the transfer; it wasn't forced on him.

He pushed his musings to the back of his mind, however, as the five men ordered dinner and began to talk about what had happened in their lives during the past week. Ed, Sam, and Wordy told stories of what their girls had done, typically some funny anecdote. Three-year-old Isabel Lane was beginning to talk more and more, and Ed told about how she was fascinated with airplanes. As the Lane family was walking through the park, a jet flew overhead, and Izzy stopped to watch it while excitedly pointing and yelling at the top of her lungs, "A jet, a jet, a jet!" Eleven-month-old Sadie Braddock was beginning to pull herself up on furniture and cruise around it, leading Sam to believe she'd be walking soon. Wordy's three girls were all older, but there were stories for each of them as well. Spike didn't have kids yet, unless you counted Babycakes, his anti-explosive robot, but he had his own stories about what he and Winnie Camden had done that week. The two had been dating for over a year now, and Greg was beginning to wonder if they would marry someday.

As he listened to his friends' tales, Greg felt a little left out. After all, he lived alone, and he had no stories to tell, except for the rare occasion when something out of the ordinary happened at the college. His son, Dean, was at the college, studying to be a Constable, and while he and Greg got together fairly often outside of school, their relationship was not such that much happened that was worth telling about. At school, Greg made sure that Dean knew that he was an instructor, not his dad. He would have had stories to tell about his relationship with Marina, but that wasn't to be, he'd made sure of that.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

After the shooting, Greg fell into a deep depression and pushed everyone who cared about him away. His SRU teammates and Dean knew what was happening, and they did their best to comfort Greg during this dark time. He attempted to get them to leave him alone, but they refused, especially Eddie. Greg was his best friend, and Ed would not let him throw that friendship away. Greg still tried, usually with verbal barbs designed to make the others hate him as much as he hated himself, but with Marina, it became physical one day. About a year after being released from the hospital, not long after his retirement party, Greg hit rock bottom. Although he had been sober for over ten years, he had gone to a local liquor store and purchased a bottle of bourbon. He remembered how the alcohol had allowed him to forget his life before, and he was longing for that oblivion again. The physical pain from his wounds, coupled with the mental pain of knowing he would lose his job and the guilt over the deaths of Donna and Jimmy, caused him to want to block everything out for a good long while. Even though he knew that recovering alcoholics couldn't take even one sip without risking a relapse, he had gotten to the point where he didn't care. When he got back to the apartment he shared with Marina, she was in the living room watching television.

"Hey, babe, where have you been?" she asked sweetly.

"Nowhere," he mumbled, trying to hide the bottle behind his back.

He didn't succeed, however, and Marina saw the bag. She knew that Greg was going through a hard time, and she had done her best to help him through it. He had called her names and had refused to have anything to do with her physically, but she thought loved him enough that she was willing to wait until he was back to the old Greg who was kind and loving, no matter how long that took. This day, however, that conviction was thrown out the window.

"What's that you're holding, Greg?" she asked, a note of concern in her voice. She knew what a brown paper bag, obviously holding a bottle, usually meant, but she couldn't bring herself to believe that Greg would start drinking again. She knew what his alcoholism had done to him and his family before, and she honestly thought that he would never want to be in that place ever again.

Greg's eyes narrowed, and he decided that this was the time he would finally get Marina to leave him. He hated himself and his life so much that he was determined to rid himself of all vestiges of love. Deep down, he knew that what he was doing was incredibly wrong, but he just wanted all the pain to go away, and Marina's kindness and understanding would not let him forget. He knew, or at least thought, that she would never abide living with a drunk. If she left, then he would be able to wallow in his misery all alone, which was exactly what he wanted.

"What? This?" he asked innocently. He brought the bag out from behind him and pulled the bottle out slowly. "This is a bottle of Evan Williams whiskey. I've never actually tried this particular brand, but the clerk at the liquor store assured me that it is among the best."

"Greg," Marina said warily, "what are you doing with whiskey?"

"I'm going to drink it, of course. There is very little else you do with this fine beverage. I am going to drink this entire bottle until I can't stand up. I am going to drown my sorrows, as they say."

Marina turned off the television with the remote and slowly stood. She took a few steps toward Greg, who was still standing in the open doorway. "Greg, you know that is not the solution…" she began, but Greg interrupted her.

"Really!" he shouted at her, his face turning red and his hand tightening on the neck of the bottle. "Well, then, perhaps you can tell me what the solution is, Marina, because I can't think of another one! This is it! This will make me forget the pain, the guilt, and the memories of that day! I want to forget! I just want to forget!" He punctuated his words with the bottle, holding it out in front of him as if it was a shield between himself and Marina.

"No, Greg," she said softly, walking slowly toward him, "it won't make you forget. Not permanently anyway. You may forget tonight, but what about tomorrow morning? What will you do when the memories come back? Buy another bottle? And what about the day after that, and the day after that? Will you just drink yourself to an early grave? What about Dean? What will this do to him, after all that you and he have done to get him back in your life?" As she spoke, Marina's hand slowly stretched out until it touched Greg's, which had a death grip on the bottle.

At the first hint of her hand on his, he jerked the bottle backwards to keep her from taking it. He pulled it back too quickly and too hard, though, and he was unable to keep his grip on it. The bottle slipped from his grasp, hit the tile by the front door, and shattered. The sharp smell of bourbon instantly filled the air, and Greg looked down at the shards of glass at his feet. Marina stopped in her tracks as she heard an animalistic growl come from Greg's throat, and she took a step backwards as his head came slowly up. The anger in his eyes scared her more than anything else ever had. Even when she had been held hostage, she had not felt this kind of fear, for there was no fury in that situation, merely obsession. Now, however, for the first time in their relationship, she was intensely afraid of the man in front of her.

Before Marina could retreat any farther, Greg's hand shot up and grabbed her by the throat, forcing her backwards until she was up against the couch. He was not grabbing her very tightly, but it was still enough that she couldn't get free. There was nothing in the look he gave her to show that he comprehended what was happening, and the only sound he made was the growl that came from deep in his chest.

"Greg? Greg, what are you doing?" she screamed, frantically trying to pull his hand away from her. His hand tightened slightly, and a cry escaped her throat. "Greg, you're hurting me! Stop it!"

Her words finally penetrated his brain, and his eyes widened in shock as he instantly dropped his arm to his side and staggered backwards. "Oh, God, Marina! I am so sorry! I don't know what came over me," he blurted out. He took one step forward, but she cried out and ran around the couch, placing it between them.

"Don't come any closer, Greg! Don't touch me!"

He stopped immediately and looked down at his hand as if he did not believe that it belonged to him. He dropped to the ground, still staring at his hand, and began to sob. "I am so sorry, Marina, so sorry. I didn't mean it, didn't mean it." He continued to babble out apologies, but Marina had slipped around him, and she ran toward the front door, which was still open. She grabbed her purse off of the small table by the door and ran out, never looking back once.

Greg remained on the ground, his right leg bent underneath him and his left leg sticking straight out in front of him. His head had dropped into his hands, and his shoulders shook with the sobs that racked his body. Greg didn't know how long he stayed on the floor, mumbling incoherently and crying harder than he had in a very long time, but in the end, he knew he needed help. He had never physically assaulted a woman before, not even his first wife, Joanne, during the worst days of their marriage. Attacking Marina was never part of his plan to make her leave; he had simply wanted to get drunk and drive her away. When the bottle dropped from his hand, however, something inside of him snapped. It was as if that last choice of his, the choice to drink until he forgot, the choice to rid himself of Marina's love, had been torn away from him, too.

He didn't stir when he heard footsteps crunching over the glass that littered the entryway, although there were no more tears, and his breathing had calmed to normal levels. He didn't even move when he felt two strong hands grasp his shoulders from behind. He knew it was Eddie; he could tell from both his touch and his cologne, but he stayed where he was, his hands still covering his face.

Ed had gotten a frantic call from Marina while he was at home. It was his day off, and he had been relaxing on the hammock in the backyard. His nineteen-year-old son, Clark was at a friend's house, and Sophie and Izzy were napping upstairs. He had just drifted off to sleep when his cell phone rang. He answered it, and Marina's hysterical ramblings met his ears.

"Ed, you have to help me! Greg…he…hurt me!"

Ed sat up, instantly alert. "Marina? Hey, calm down, calm down. What are you talking about?"

He heard her take a deep breath, and she calmed enough to recount what had happened at the apartment. Ed felt like a vice was squeezing his chest as she told him about the whiskey; he knew the consequences if Greg began drinking again. Dread filled him, however, when Marina spoke about how Greg had grabbed her. He had never known the Boss to be a violent man, and the fact that he had laid hands on Marina spoke to a very unstable state of mind.

"Okay, Marina, stay calm. Where are you? Are you safe now?"

"I'm safe, Ed. I'm outside the apartment, and Greg is still inside. I am driving to my friend's house; I'm going to stay with her for a while."

"All right," Eddie said as he stood up and moved quickly into his house. "Call me when you get there so that I know you are safe, okay?" He slipped his shoes on and grabbed his car keys on his way out the door.

"Okay, Ed, thanks." Marina seemed much calmer now, and Ed hung up the phone as he got into the car and started it.

He drove to Greg's apartment and was instantly assailed by the overpowering smell of whiskey as he walked up to the front door. He noticed the broken glass on the floor, but his attention was focused on the man sitting with his back to him, head in hands. The sight of Greg broken in such a way was almost more than he could bear, but Ed swallowed his own tears and went to comfort his friend.

"Greg?" Ed's voice came to him softly. "Greg, what happened?"

Greg shook his head. "I don't know, buddy, I don't know. I really screwed up this time, Eddie." He slowly turned his head to look at Eddie, who was kneeling behind him, his hands on Greg's shoulders. "Eddie," he managed to get out, his red, puffy eyes filling with tears again, "I need help, buddy."

At that, Ed gathered Greg into his arms and held him as the sobs began again and the tears flowed freely. Greg held tightly to Ed's shirt and buried his face in his chest. It seemed like hours later when he stopped crying and took a deep breath. His eyes felt as if they had been rubbed with sandpaper, his lungs burned from the sobs, and his legs were cramping from being in such an awkward position for so long.

Ed eased him away, but held onto Greg's arms. He looked him in the eye and said, "Tell me everything, Greg, and I mean everything. Leave nothing out."

Greg nodded and looked at the ground. He was afraid he was going to start crying again as he recounted how he had decided to drink himself into oblivion, the trip to the liquor store, and the altercation between himself and Marina, but there didn't seem to be any tears left in him. A deep blush spread from his neck to his face as he recalled how he had assaulted Marina when the bottle broke. When he finished, he asked, "Where's Marina, Eddie? Is she all right?"

"She's fine, buddy; she's gone to stay with a friend for a while. I think that's for the best, don't you?"

"Of course, that's for the best."

Eddie had helped him clean up, both the apartment and himself, and then Ed had immediately put a call in to the police psychiatrist. He explained the situation briefly over the phone, and the doctor had agreed to see Greg right away.

Greg's plan to drive Marina away had worked, even if it was not exactly as he would have liked. Although she didn't press charges against him, for which Greg was grateful, she refused to have anything to do with him from that day on. It was not like Greg could blame her.

A few days after the assault, Marina showed up at the apartment, but she only stayed long enough to pack her things. Greg was home, but not one word was spoken between them. He had tried to call her later that day to apologize, but she never answered the phone, and she never responded to his messages, whether voice or text. After a month of trying to contact her, Greg resigned himself to the fact that she wanted nothing more to do with him. It was over between them.

The sessions with the psychiatrist started at once a week, an hour at a time. Over the past year, they had tapered off to once every two weeks, to once a month, to the current plan, which was "whenever deemed necessary by the patient or doctor." The doctor had helped him sort out his feelings, especially what he eventually realized was survivor's guilt. He had been right outside the Casey Jeffers Building when it blew up, and he was the one who had sent Donna and Jimmy to their deaths. He felt like he should have been the one inside the building, not Team Three. At least, that was what he was feeling when he first started the therapy. The doctor helped him realize that Donna and Jimmy's deaths were not his fault; they were the fault of Marcus Faber. Greg finally accepted the fact that Faber had been the only one who did anything wrong that day. Donna and Jimmy had died doing their jobs, and nothing Greg had done or not done had contributed to their deaths.

As the mental pain of guilt and memories began to decline, so did the physical pain from his leg and chest. The wounds healed, and while the lack of full mobility annoyed him to no end, it, too, was something he learned to deal with. Now the pain was gone, but the muscle damage in his thigh prevented him from bending his knee very far, and so he still used the cane for some support, especially when walking up or down stairs. He could stand and walk without it, but not for very long at a time. The pain of his imminent retirement from the SRU took longer to get rid of, however. That pain didn't go away until after his retirement party a year after the bombings. That night, with all of his friends and family surrounding him, making speeches and telling stories about their time together, it finally hit home that there was no chance he would be returning to the SRU. Until that night, he had held a small glimmer of hope that things would change, that some miracle would happen, and he would be able to go back to his old job. The party was the final nail in the coffin of his career at the SRU, though, and, after numerous sessions with the psychiatrist, Greg was able to accept that he had turned a corner in his life. With that acceptance, he was able to put all of his energy into teaching at the college. Now he was a respected instructor, teaching classes in negotiation techniques and tactical maneuvers. He still missed the SRU terribly, but he truly enjoyed his students, especially because he wasn't teaching the brand new recruits. His classes were reserved for advanced cadets and experienced law enforcement officers who wanted to expand their knowledge and become better officers. His classes were so popular, they all had waiting lists, and, while the cadets were guaranteed a spot because the classes were required, active officers were encouraged to sign up for a class six months to a year ahead of time. Because of this, Greg had almost a year's worth of classes already filled to capacity.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

The voices of the four men at his table brought Greg's attention back to the present once again. They didn't give any indication that they noticed he had not been attending to their stories, but he knew they had. They knew that he still struggled, and an unspoken pact had been made between them all that, unless it appeared that he was getting too depressed or destructive, they would leave him to deal with his memories alone. His mind came back now, and he tried to focus on what they were saying. Spike was telling them how he and Winnie had played mini golf, and soon he had them all laughing when he told them about how horribly he had played. Even Greg laughed heartily when Spike recounted one stroke that ended with his ball hitting a giant blue dinosaur and bouncing off right into the middle of a large mud puddle. Winnie had said that he should just get another ball, but Spike insisted that he could get it out. At first, he tried to reach it with his club, but it was too far out. Spike then leaned over as far as he could, which resulted in him losing his balance and landing face-first in the puddle. He grinned at Winnie, however, as he held his orange golf ball triumphantly in the air, even as mud and water dripped off of his ears and chin.

The evening continued on in that vein until dinner was over, and the men decided to call it a night. As the five men stood and shook hands, promising to meet again the following week, Greg caught a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head toward the bar where he saw a woman sitting on one of the stools. She had curly, slightly longer than shoulder-length blonde hair, and the color he had seen came from her blouse, which was a shade of iridescent purple that he couldn't quite place. His gaze took in the rest of the woman's outfit, which included black pants and shiny black flats. Her outfit, beautiful though it was, was not was captured his attention, however. She was watching him. Not just watching him, though. She was turned around in her seat, back to the bar, staring at him with what seemed to be intense interest, a small smile on her lips as she sipped her drink through a straw. Her eyes were a brilliant blue, with a darker blue ring around the iris. They were the most bewitching eyes he had ever seen, and he couldn't seem to look away from them.

"Greg? Earth to Greg; you there, buddy?" Ed's hand waving in front of his face caused him to start and turn toward his friend.

"Huh?"

Ed was the only one left standing at the table with Greg; the other three men were nowhere to be seen.

"Wow, what caught your attention all of a sudden? I asked you if you wanted a ride home. I know you said you took a cab here."

"Oh," Greg responded, glancing back at the woman, who had turned back toward the bar. "No thanks, Ed, I'll just take a cab back, or I might walk; it's not that far."

"All right, if you say so." Ed looked in the direction of Greg's glance and noticed the woman. Her back was to them now, and he shook his head slightly and smiled while he leaned toward Greg conspiratorially. "Are you thinking of talking to her, buddy?"

"What? Who?" Greg's attention snapped back to his friend. "I mean, no; I mean…" He took a deep breath, "I don't know what I mean."

"She is beautiful, I must say," Ed continued.

"How can you tell from here? You can't even see her face," Greg responded, although he had to admit that his friend was right on that score.

"I can't see it now, but I noticed her watching you while we were eating." Ed laughed at the look on Greg's face, which said that Eddie shouldn't be looking at other women when he had a lovely wife back home. "Hey, I may be happily married with two wonderful kids, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy beauty when I see it. So, I ask again, are you going to talk to her?"

Greg began to grin. "You know, Eddie, I think I might just do that."

"Hallelujah! It's about time!" Ed cried, slapping Greg on the back in the process, ignoring the annoyed looks coming from the few people left in the restaurant. "I guess I'll leave you to it, then," he finished, and he walked out the door, still chuckling to himself.

The woman had reacted to Ed's exuberant shout by turning once again on her stool until she was facing Greg. As Ed left, the small smile on her face grew a little bigger when she saw that Greg was not accompanying him out the door.

It had been almost six months since Marina had left him, and Greg had not been on a single date in that time. For the longest time, he simply didn't feel as if he had anything to offer a woman. After all, what was he? A washed-up, crippled ex-SRU officer with a temper and serious psychological problems. What woman would want that in her life? After the sessions with the psychiatrist, that image of himself was gone, but he was still apprehensive about being with a woman. He was especially afraid that his temper would flare, and he would hurt her. After all, it had happened before. With this woman again staring at him, however, he decided that it was time to see what sort of man he had become. He walked up to the bar and indicated an empty stool next to her.

"Hi, mind if I sit down?"

She turned her stool back around and placed her glass on the bar. "Not at all," she replied, the smile still gracing her face.

He sat on the stool as gracefully as he could and propped his cane against the bar by his feet. He could tell that she noticed the slight difficulty he had with this process, but she didn't say anything. After he got settled, he turned to her and smiled.

"My name is Greg," he said, holding out his right hand.

"Lynn." She took his hand and gave it a small shake.

Not only had Greg not dated in six months, he had not even touched a woman, unless you counted hugs from Jules, Sophie, and Shelley, and he didn't. The simple act of Lynn taking his hand sent a shock of electricity through his body. Her hand was not too small, and it fit into his perfectly. It was soft, and he couldn't seem to let it go.

Lynn noticed this, and she let out a small laugh. "May I have my hand back now?"

"Oh, of course, sorry about that," Greg flushed as he hastily dropped her hand. This was just great; thirty seconds had passed, and he had already managed to make a complete fool of himself.

He attempted to cover his embarrassment. He had noticed her drink was almost empty, so he asked, "May I buy you another drink?"

"That would be lovely, thank you."

Greg cleared his throat. "Tom?" he called the bartender. "Another Diet Coke for me, and a…" He stopped. Turning to Lynn, he asked, "What are you drinking?"

"Sprite," she replied simply, her smile widening a little at the look of surprise on Greg's face at her answer.

"Oh, okay. A Sprite for the lady," he continued, turning back to Tom.

"Right away, Greg."

"You must come here a lot, Greg, for the bartender to know you by name."

He looked at Lynn who was watching him with an amused expression on her face. He found himself caught up in her eyes again, and he didn't respond right away. He mentally shook himself like a dog when he realized she had said something.

"What? Oh, yeah, I've been coming here for years. My buddies and I spend every Friday night here."

"Guys night out, huh? That's neat. It must be nice to have a circle of friends like that."

"It is," Greg said honestly, a small wave of gratitude sweeping through him as he remembered all that his friends had done for him.

"Hey," he said, "would you rather sit at a table? It might be more comfortable than these stools."

"Yes, I would like that." Lynn slid off her stool as Greg attempted to do the same, but she did it much more gracefully than he did. He grabbed his cane with his left hand and placed his right hand on the small of her back as he guided her back to the table he and the others had just occupied. On the way, he caught Tom's eye and motioned that they were moving, so Tom brought their drinks to the table.

After they sat down, Greg asked, "Have you eaten?"

"Yes, thanks." Lynn knew that Greg had eaten, for she had been watching him from the moment she sat down at the bar.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

She didn't know what had caused her to notice him at first. She was generally not attracted to balding, middle-aged men, but there was something about him. He looked familiar, but she couldn't place him, and she didn't know anyone in Toronto. Perhaps it was the fact that he looked to be in his own world as the men around him talked and laughed. As she watched, she saw flashes of pain and regret cross his face, although the other men seemed not to notice. After a while, he had come out of his own head, and the group of men talked and laughed, and she knew that they had known each other a very long time. She could tell by the comfortable way they teased each other. She caught snippets of their conversation when they got a little loud, and she smiled to herself when waves of laughter flowed from their table at one particularly funny story.

The whole time, however, she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of the man who had arrived first. When she had walked into O'Malley's, he was already seated at the table. It was a table that seated six, so she assumed he was waiting for someone. It was then that she first noticed that his mind did not seem to be in the present. Most people who were waiting checked their watches or glanced at the door, but this man simply sat, staring into his drink. It intrigued her, and she continued to watch him out of the corner of her eye. As the night continued, she nursed her own drink and began to watch him more openly. By the time the men had finished their dinner, she had turned completely around in her stool and was staring at him unabashedly.

When he looked in her direction, she saw that his eyes were a gorgeous deep brown that reminded her of melted dark chocolate. She felt like she was drowning in them; they captivated her, and it scared her a little. When his tall friend got his attention, and he turned away, she took that opportunity to turn back to the bar. She was taking deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart, when she heard his friend cry out. She whipped around on her stool again and saw the back slap and the grins, and she smiled wider when she saw that the taller man was leaving, while Mr. Chocolate Eyes obviously was not. As a matter of fact, he was walking straight toward her, and for the first time, she noticed the cane. Her heart did a small flip-flop when he asked to sit down, and she saw the difficulty he had sitting on the stool. She was now curious, but she didn't want to embarrass him, so she said nothing.

As nervous as he was, Greg could tell that Lynn was even more nervous. After they were seated at the table, and it was determined that neither of them was hungry, an awkward silence ensued.

"So, Sprite, huh? Any story behind that?" he blurted when the silence became too much for him to handle.

Lynn smiled. "No, not really. I just learned a long time ago that I don't like the taste of alcohol. I'll drink it occasionally, you know, at family dinners and such, but I rarely finish a whole glass." She shrugged. "A lot of people think that's weird."

"Not weird at all," Greg offered kindly. "If you don't like it, you don't like it."

"What about you? I noticed the sodas you've been drinking all night."

"Ah, my problem is that I used to like alcohol way too much." Greg didn't want to get into all the details of his alcoholism with a stranger, but he somehow felt comfortable enough with Lynn to tell her a little. "I'm a recovering alcoholic."

"Recovering? I'm glad to hear that. There are a number of people in my family who haven't gotten to the 'recovering' part yet, so I've seen what damage alcohol can do to a person and their family."

"Trust me," Greg replied, "I know exactly what you mean."

"So, tell me about yourself," he continued, trying to steer the conversation toward something a little lighter.

Lynn smiled slightly and responded, "No."

"No?" Greg's eyebrows went up in surprise. He certainly wasn't expecting that response. He took a second and then continued, "Okay, what will we talk about?"

Lynn's smile grew a little. "I mean, no, I won't just start talking about myself. I have found that when people do that, they give the other person a lot of information they don't really want or need. However, if you ask me questions, I will decide whether or not to answer them. That way you will get to know what you want to know, and I will do the same."

"All right, then." Greg thought for a moment and then asked his first question. "Are you from Toronto?"

"No," Lynn answered. "I am actually from the States; Colorado to be exact."

"Really? Wow! You're a long way from home." Greg had never even considered that this woman was American.

"That is very true. My turn; may I assume you are from Toronto?"

"Yep, born and bred, well, the suburbs, anyway. It's a great city; maybe I can show you around sometime?" Wow, did he really just ask her out? He cringed a little inside as he anticipated a negative response.

Lynn surprised him, though, when she replied, "I'd really like that, Greg. I haven't been able to see much of the city since I arrived yesterday."

"That's it, then. Are you free tomorrow morning? Say eight o'clock?"

"Actually, I am," she said with a smile, "but you're not using that question to end this night, are you? I have so many more questions for you."

"No, no," he said hastily. "As a matter of fact, I wouldn't mind at all if tonight bled straight into tomorrow's plans." What was happening to him? Greg was never this forward with a woman; he had always taken his time getting to know someone before even considering dating them. Lynn, however, seemed to have completely destroyed all of his inhibitions. All he knew was that he wanted to spend as much time as possible with this woman, especially now that he knew she was just visiting.

She did not seem insulted, though, and she laughed as she replied, "Well, we will just have to see how many questions we have for each other."

"Okay, on that note, next question, or rather a statement. Please tell me you are not married."

A flash of something Greg could not quite place crossed her face, and she looked down at the table briefly before bringing her eyes back up. "Not anymore," she said quietly.

"Oh, Lynn, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to bring up anything painful." He reached over and took one of her hands in both of his. This was obviously a touchy subject, and he felt like a complete heel for mentioning it.

"No, Greg, it's all right. You didn't know, and it's getting easier to talk about." She pulled her hand from his and took a sip of her drink. "I was married," she continued softly. "My husband and I were together for almost twenty-five years when he died."

Twenty-five years? Greg could not believe that Lynn could have been married that long. She looked to be in her early forties, so she must have been very young when she was wed.

"I'm sorry, Lynn. We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to."

"No, you asked, and I'll answer. John and I met while I was still in high school. He was older, already graduated, and we got married about a year after I graduated. We built a wonderful life together, but he died about eighteen months ago."

Eighteen months. Right around the time Greg himself had almost died. There were certainly some strange coincidences in the world.

"What about you?" Lynn continued. "I see no ring, so I'm going to say that you are not married either?"

"No," he replied, "although I was a long time ago. That marriage did not end well, and I never see or talk to my ex-wife anymore."

"That's too bad. Any children?"

"Yes, I have one son, Dean. He is nineteen years old, and he is currently studying at the Police College to be a Constable." Greg couldn't keep the pride out of his voice as he said this. Even though he had opposed Dean's decision to be a cop at first, he was now intensely proud of his son.

"Constable?" Lynn questioned.

"Yes, it's the first rank in the police force. I believe it would correspond to an Officer in the States."

"Oh, that makes sense. I bet you are very proud of him."

"I am, I am. And you? Any children?"

Lynn chuckled a little at that question. "Are you sure you are ready for the answer?"

Greg was a little confused, but he nodded his head.

"All right, you asked for it. I have five children." Lynn stopped there to see Greg's reaction, but beyond the raising of his eyebrows, there was nothing. "Wow, most people respond very strongly to that statement. 'Five? How could you handle that many? Don't you know about overpopulation? Don't you know about birth control?' These are the typical responses I get."

"Seriously? People actually mention overpopulation and birth control to you?" Greg was shocked. He would never even consider being that rude.

"Oh, yes," Lynn continued. "It was especially bad when they were younger. My oldest was just shy of eight years old when my youngest was born, so you can imagine how it looked when I took them all to the store."

Greg laughed at the image her words produced. "I can imagine, actually. I think it's great that you have such a big family."

"Well, now my kids are twenty-six, twenty-four, twenty-three, twenty, and eighteen years old. My oldest son, John, is a hotel manager. He is going to get married in three months. My oldest daughter, May, has been married for two years and is expecting my first grandchild in December. She is a third grade teacher. My son, James, is currently in graduate school, pursuing a master's degree in business. William, my youngest son, is working on a bachelor's degree in engineering, and my youngest daughter, Rose, just graduated high school. She wants to be a veterinarian."

There was a moment of silence as Greg's brain processed all of this information. He had been impressed by Lynn's beauty and poise before, but the fact that she had raised five seemingly successful children elevated her even more in his eyes.

"Wow, that is something," he said sincerely. He took a sip of his drink and tried to collect his thoughts.

"Thank you, Greg, I am very proud of all of them. Now, what is it you do?"

Greg didn't answer right away. He wasn't sure he wanted to answer that question, but he knew that he needed to be able to speak to people about it eventually. Now seemed as good a time as any.

"I am a police officer. I am the Head Instructor at the Ontario Police College."

"Really?" Lynn seemed very pleased to hear this. "That is so amazing. I have such respect for all first responders; I don't know how you guys can do what you do every day. Have you been an instructor for long?"

"No," Greg responded as a wave of regret passed through him, "only about six months. I was a member of the SRU before that." It surprised him that he could speak of his former job with no bitterness in his voice. Perhaps he really had come to terms with his current situation.

Lynn's face fell a little at this revelation, and her eyes narrowed. "SRU? That's the Strategic Response Unit, right?"

"Yes, it is."

The smile fled completely from Lynn's face to be replaced with a frown and scrunched-up eyebrows, and she looked down at her drink. Greg noticed that she was gripping her glass very tightly, and he reached over and gently pried her fingers from the glass. He was afraid she might shatter it with the pressure she was exerting. He set the glass aside and held both of her hands between his.

"Lynn, what is it?" He searched her face for some sign of what was wrong.

She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Is your last name Parker?"

Her question caught him completely by surprise. "Yes, it is," he managed to get out. "How did you know that?"

"I saw you on the television during the bombings eighteen months ago." She glanced down at his leg. "That's how you hurt your leg, isn't it?"

This was getting weird, but he answered, "Yes, the bomber shot me when I stopped his last bomb." He squeezed her hands a little. "How do you know all this about me?"

It surprised him to see tears forming in her eyes as she stared into his. "Oh, I paid close attention to everything about that day. Now I know why you looked so familiar. I watched every television report and read every article I could find." Her voice caught as the tears began to fall steadily down her face. "My husband was in City Hall when it blew up."


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Greg sat in stunned silence while Lynn's words sank in and he recalled his earlier thought about coincidences. His mind raced as he tried to think of something to say. Suddenly, an idea hit him.

"Lynn, you're here for the memorial ceremony, aren't you?"

When she nodded, it all made sense to him. On Monday, three days from now, he was to speak at a memorial ceremony to remember those who had died in the bombings. The date was exactly eighteen months from the day Marcus Faber terrorized the city. Greg's part in the ceremony was going to be the reading of the names, ages, and hometowns of the fifty-seven victims. He had gotten the list a few weeks earlier, and he had looked it over many times, mainly focusing on the last two: Donna Anne Sabine-Gerald, age 42, Brampton, Ontario, Canada; and James Robert Campbell, age 38, Milton, Ontario, Canada. Although he had those two memorized because he had known them personally, there were two others that stuck out from the rest. One of those was Ethan Walker Lee, age 5, Clarington, Ontario, Canada, the only child killed in the blasts, and the other was...

"John Thomas Mitchell, age 51, Grand Junction, Colorado, United States of America."

He didn't realize he had spoken out loud until he heard Lynn gasp and felt her pull her hands from his.

"How do you know that?" she demanded, the tears still streaming down her face.

Greg sighed heavily. "I am going to be reading the names at the ceremony on Monday. I remembered his name because he was the only person from the States." He searched Lynn's face to see what she thinking, but all he saw was intense pain and sorrow. He felt absolutely horrible that he was the one who had brought all this to the surface in this way.

"Lynn, are you all right?" As soon as he said it, he felt stupid. Of course she wasn't all right; that was plain to anyone who had eyes. Luckily, the restaurant had almost completely emptied out. There was only one other table that was occupied, but it was on the other side of the room. The couple sitting there was paying no attention to them at all.

After what seemed like hours, as he watched Lynn, he saw the tears slow and then stop. Her breathing slowed to normal, and the only sign that she was still upset was the fact that her hands were slowly shredding a napkin into miniscule pieces.

With a deep breath, she looked up at him. "Wow," she managed, "I haven't cried like that in quite a while. I thought I was past that stage. After all, I've been talking to friends and family about that day for months now without breaking down."

"Maybe it's because you are here where it happened," Greg offered. "Sometimes that can make all the difference in the world."

"You're probably right," she responded, and then she surprised Greg by taking his hands in hers just like he had done a short time ago. She began to talk, and he sat silently and listened.

"John wasn't even supposed to be here that day. His company wanted to start a branch in Canada – their first international venture. Another of his colleagues was set to come and start the process, but at the last minute, he got very sick. The plane tickets had already been bought, the hotel rooms reserved, and John's boss, Roger, didn't want to have to redo everything, so he asked John if he wanted to come instead. Of course, John jumped at the chance. Not only was it a way to possibly move up in the company, it was also an all-expenses paid trip to Canada. He would have been crazy to pass that up, right?

"Anyway, I found out later that the day after they got here, John and Roger went to City Hall to get some information on what steps were necessary to start an international company in Toronto. John had called me just before they left the hotel, so I had no reason to think he would contact me before that evening. I was surprised, then, when I got a call from Roger's wife telling me to turn on the television. She had been watching a news channel, and the news ticker at the bottom of the screen had a line about two bombings in Toronto, one at a federal building, and one at City Hall. Of course, I knew John and Roger were in Toronto, but I had no idea where exactly.

"I immediately called my four older kids who weren't living at home, and they came over to my house. My youngest daughter had been at a friend's house, and I told her to come home, too. Together, we watched everything the television news had to show about the bombings, and we all took turns checking the online reports as well. This went on for hours until I got another phone call from Roger's wife.

"Roger had been pulled from the wreckage of City Hall with fairly minor injuries; I think he had a broken leg and a head wound, but nothing that couldn't be fixed. She seemed reluctant to continue, but when I asked about John, she said that Roger didn't know where he was. He had said that at the time the bomb exploded, the two men had been separated. John had been with the city representative while Roger had stepped out to go to the restroom."

Throughout all of this, Lynn's grasp on Greg's hands gradually tightened until it felt like she was holding on for dear life. Her eyes, which had remained locked on his the entire time, glistened with tears, but they did not fall.

After another deep breath, Lynn continued, "They found his body two days after the bombings. The office he had been in was right next to the room with the bomb, and they told me that he was probably killed instantly; that he had probably felt nothing."

At this, she let out a humorless laugh. "Probably felt nothing! Like that was supposed to make me feel better about losing my husband, right?"

Greg still said nothing, but he gently squeezed Lynn's hands, which seemed to calm her somewhat. The tears in Lynn's eyes still had not fallen, and Greg was about to speak when she let go of his hands.

"Well, that's my story," she said bitterly. It was obvious to Greg that she was attempting to cover her pain with bravado. "Not exactly what you were expecting when you introduced yourself, is it?"

Greg smiled sadly. "No, not at all," he said quietly, "but I am very glad you felt you could trust me with it."

Lynn looked at him with surprise, as if she had just realized she had poured her heart out to a complete stranger. Then she smiled, although there was still a sadness to it. "Well, maybe I knew I could trust the man who saved the city. You know that's what all the articles said about you, don't you? 'Sergeant Gregory Parker, the Hero of Toronto.' Even in the States, that's what they called you. The news was full of stories about how your team diffused all those other bombs, and I saw the clips about your speech to the city after the City Hall bomb. You have quite a way with words, Sergeant Parker. I'm sure you made a lot of people feel better that day. I know that, even though I didn't know where my husband was, or if he was still alive, and even though I was thirteen hundred miles away, you made me feel as if it might all turn out okay. I thought that the people of Toronto were lucky to have a man like you working to keep the city safe. And now that I have met you, that belief has only been strengthened."

Greg didn't know what to say about that. He certainly didn't feel much like a hero. It always embarrassed him when people praised him for just doing his job. His retirement party had been one long, uncomfortable night for that very reason.

His attention was brought back to Lynn as she began to stand up. "Well, I have taken up too much of your time. I should be getting back to my hotel."

"Wait," Greg put his hand on her arm to stop her. "Do you have to leave? I don't want you to think that I want you to go because of what just happened. I would really like to spend some more time with you, if it's not too uncomfortable for you."

"No, it's not," she replied, as she stood up from the table. "I am just very tired all of a sudden, and I would like to get back and sleep." When she saw the disappointment on his face, she smiled. "It's not you, Greg, believe me. As a matter of fact, I would still like to take you up on your offer to show me around the city tomorrow, if that works for you."

Greg stood with her. "I would really like that," he said, "and, if you'll let me, I'd like to accompany you back to your hotel – just to make sure you get there safely, of course."

Lynn looked at him intently for a moment, and then, apparently being satisfied with what she saw, nodded. "All right, I accept."

"Great!" he said as he took his cane in his left hand and offered his right arm to Lynn. She smiled as she grabbed her purse and took his arm. They walked out of the restaurant, Greg giving a nod to Tom as they passed the bar. Outside, he hailed a cab, and the two climbed in, with Greg gallantly allowing Lynn to enter the car first while he held the door for her. He was surprised when she gave the driver the name of The Hazelton Hotel as their destination, for that was the classiest hotel in the entire city. He told himself he would have to ask Lynn about that during their time together the next day. The cab ride was taken in silence, but it was a comfortable silence, and when they reached the hotel, Greg climbed out of the cab first and then helped Lynn out. He held onto her hand after she exited the cab, and on impulse, he raised it to his lips and softly kissed her knuckles.

He was encouraged by the smile that brightened her face at this, and he said, "Until tomorrow, then? I'll meet you in the lobby at eight, all right?"

She nodded her head, the smile never dimming, and replied, "Tomorrow, eight o'clock," and then she pulled her hand from his, turned, and entered the hotel.

As she walked away, Greg felt a twinge in his chest, and he took a deep breath. What was happening to him? He hadn't ever felt this way about a woman before, especially one he had just met, and he wondered if it was just empathy for what she had gone through and for what she would have to go through in a few days. He climbed back into the cab and gave the driver his home address.

The cab pulled away from the curb and slowly accelerated. _Some negotiator. I can teach others how to empathize and connect, but i can't even sort out my own feelings._

He closed his eyes and relaxed against the back of the seat for the twenty-minute ride to his house, all the while trying to put the image of those beautiful blue eyes out of his mind.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

The next day dawned bright and brilliant. As Greg walked up to the front doors of The Hazelton, he looked up at the blue sky overhead. There wasn't a cloud to be seen, and the temperature was warm enough already that he knew it was going to be a gorgeous day.

The doorman held the door for him, and he entered the lobby of the hotel. He had never been there before – it was way beyond his pay grade – but he had heard about its opulence. Now he saw that the stories were all true. The lobby was elegantly decorated in earth tones, and even he could tell the furniture was very expensive. He noticed all of this incidentally, however, because his attention was fixed on Lynn, who was waiting for him in one of the chairs next to a large window, reading a magazine.

She had dressed in jeans and a wrap-around, beige shirt. He saw that her feet were shod with sensible tennis shoes. It was such a simple outfit, but Greg thought she looked even more beautiful than she had the night before. Maybe it was the way she was framed by the light coming through the window, but he caught his breath at the sight of her.

He had chosen a similar outfit for himself, although he had opted for a black T-shirt and sport coat along with his jeans and walking shoes.

Lynn looked up as she heard the tapping of his cane on the tiles, and she let her eyes wander over him from top to bottom and back until her gaze stopped and she stared into his eyes. She smiled, and Greg was happy to see that the smile reached her eyes. He had been terrified that she would change her mind and not show up. The fact that she was indeed there, and even seemed happy to see him, encouraged him immensely.

She put the magazine down on the side table and took the hand that he offered to her as he stopped in front of her. He helped her to her feet, and, as he had the night before, kissed her knuckles, although he applied slightly more pressure this time.

"Greg," she said sweetly, "you are the consummate gentleman. It's too bad there are not more men like you in the world."

"Well, I try," he said with a smile. "Besides," he joked, "if there were more like me, then you wouldn't think I was special, would you?"

Lynn laughed as he put her hand on his arm, and they walked out of the lobby to Greg's car, which he had left in the unloading zone in front of the hotel. This day was starting out very well, and he couldn't wipe the smile from his face as he helped Lynn into the front passenger seat. As he walked around the car to his side, he discreetly admired the beautiful woman sitting in his fine-looking car.

Greg didn't drive very much anymore. It wasn't that he couldn't, but the inability to bend his left leg completely made it a little awkward, and often it was just easier to take a cab. He had decided, though, that it would be much easier to drive today than to have to take cabs all over the city. Before the bombings, he had always driven manual cars, but shortly after being released from the hospital, he had traded in his manual silver 2011 Ford Mustang Shelby GT500 for the same car with an automatic transmission. He loved his car; it was the only thing he really splurged on, and he kept it in pristine condition. Therefore, he was thrilled when Lynn commented that it was beautiful.

As he eased into traffic, he asked, "So, did you have anything in particular in mind that you wanted to see?"

"No," Lynn replied. "As a matter of fact, I know almost nothing about Toronto, so, if you don't mind, I will leave the day in your capable hands."

Greg could hear in her voice that she was happy, and he was relieved that it did not appear that their conversation from the night before would overshadow their day.

"I don't mind at all," he said, with a smile on his face, and the car picked up speed as he drove to their first destination.

The day began superbly. The weather cooperated, and the temperature stayed in the mid-seventies with no rain, but far beyond that, the company in which Greg spent his day was the most entertaining and pleasant that he had enjoyed in a very long time. All of the tension from the night before seemed to have vanished, and Greg reveled in every laugh and smile that Lynn bestowed on him.

He asked Lynn if she had eaten breakfast, and the answer was in the negative, so their first stop was at Timmy's. Greg was surprised that she had never heard of Timmy's, for he knew that there were some in the States, but apparently not in Colorado. He learned that, along with alcohol, Lynn also disliked coffee, so while he enjoyed his double double and doughnut, she ordered a Peppermint Latte Tea and a breakfast Panini. Their conversation was light, and they told each other interesting facts about their hometowns.

When they were back in the car, Lynn asked, "Well, where to next, Sergeant Parker?"

"Well, Mrs. Mitchell, we have the largest zoo in Canada, so I was thinking of going there today."

Greg laughed out loud as Lynn actually bounced in her seat like a five-year-old and clapped her hands. "Oh, I love zoos!"

"I can tell," he said, still laughing.

A jolt ran through him when she reached over and placed her hand gently on his arm. "Thank you, Greg," she said sincerely. "This was really sweet of you."

He cleared his throat. "Don't mention it," he said gruffly, starting the car and pulling out into traffic.

Lynn removed her hand, and sat back in her seat, looking out of the side window at the buildings passing by. Greg couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret at the lack of contact, but he focused on driving, and they soon arrived at the zoo.

They spent the morning roaming the paths, admiring the animals, and just enjoying each other's company. Greg surreptitiously took every opportunity he could to touch Lynn – a hand on her back as they watched the hippos, plucking a fallen leaf out of her hair, or just simply brushing up against her as they walked. He couldn't seem to stop; he needed to feel her. Finally, an hour or so after they arrived, he stopped in the middle of the path.

Lynn hadn't noticed at first, and she took a few more steps before realizing that Greg was no longer beside her. She turned, thinking that he had stopped to look at an exhibit, and she was surprised to see that he was staring intently at her. When he caught her gaze, he immediately looked down at the ground.

"What is it, Greg? Is it your leg? Do you need to rest?" She walked back to him and laid her hand on his arm. "Oh, I'm so sorry; I've been so inconsiderate! Come on, let's sit down."

His head snapped up. "No, it's not that," he reassured her, his head spinning with the sensation of her touching him. He started to say more, but his mouth had dried up, and he swallowed heavily before taking a deep breath. Dammit, he felt like a teenager experiencing his first crush! He placed his hand over hers before continuing, "This is going to sound really stupid, but…" he couldn't continue.

"What?" Lynn began to wonder if something was really wrong. "Greg?"

Greg took another deep breath and tried again. "I was just wondering if you would let me hold your hand." Once the words were out, Greg felt like a complete idiot. Asking to hold her hand – what was he, twelve?

Lynn didn't seem to think so, though, because her face broke out into a brilliant smile, and she immediately slipped her left hand into his right and interlaced their fingers. "You didn't have to ask, silly. I wouldn't have pulled away."

An answering smile graced his own face as he tightened his grip slightly. "Wow!" he laughed. "I don't know what has come over me. Believe me, I am not usually this juvenile around women. There is just something about you."

"What is that?" she responded as they began walking again, hands linked.

"I don't know. I just have this overwhelming desire to make this day absolutely perfect, and I am terrified that I'll mess it up."

"Well, I don't think that's possible," she assured him.

Greg thought back to his last day with Marina and shook his head. "You might be surprised."

Lynn looked at him questioningly, but he didn't elaborate, and she let it go.

They continued through the zoo, and after a short while, Greg felt comfortable enough to place his hand around Lynn's waist whenever they stopped to look at an exhibit. As she had stated, Lynn did not pull away from him. On the contrary, her arm went around his waist as well. When they moved on from an exhibit, their hands immediately joined. They spent the rest of the time talking about mundane things, like their favorite animals and what kind of food they liked.

They left the zoo around one o'clock, by which time they were both starving. During their talks, it was discovered that they both loved Chinese food, so Greg drove to a small mom-and-pop place that he knew served fantastic food and had great service. After they were seated and their orders were taken, Greg reached across the table and took Lynn's hand.

She smiled and squeezed his hand gently. "So," she started, "what should we talk about now?"

"Well, I still have a lot of questions that I didn't get to last night," he said cautiously, watching her face for any sign of distress.

There was nothing, but she released his hand and sat back in her chair. "As do I," she said simply. They both realized that they had talked about nothing of substance the whole morning. Now seemed to be a good time to continue their conversation from the night before.

"Okay, then," Greg said, also sitting back. "First, and please don't be offended, but The Hazelton? That is quite the hotel, you know?"

Lynn let out a short laugh. "Oh, I know. Believe me, if I were paying for this trip, I would definitely not be staying there. John's company is paying all of my expenses until Tuesday. If I decide to stay longer, I'm on my own. At that point, I'll be moving to an EconoLodge or Super 8. Those are more in my price range."

Greg laughed at that, and the tension he was feeling about bringing up the reason for Lynn's visit diminished. He still wanted to tread lightly, but her answer seemed to indicate that she was not entirely averse to talking about it.

"How long do you plan on staying then?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "At first, I had thought I would want to get out of town immediately after the ceremony, but now," she smiled at him, "I'm not so sure I want to leave so quickly."

Greg smiled back. "I'm glad to hear it."

The food came at that point, and while they ate, they continued to ask questions about each other. Greg learned that Lynn's five children were flying in the next day and would be staying in rooms at The Hazelton as well. They would stay through Monday and fly back home on Tuesday. He learned that she was the founder and principal of a small, private school in Grand Junction. Although he regretted the reason for her trip to Canada, he was grateful that it was summer break for Lynn's school. The police college was also on a month-long break. If Lynn decided to stay past Tuesday, he didn't have to worry about going back to work for another two weeks.

The college was a fair distance from the city, and, while classes were in session, Greg lived in a room at the college during the week, driving home each Friday night and back each Monday morning. The round trip was grueling, and he could stay at the college full-time if he chose – most instructors did – but he didn't want to completely give up his life in the city. He treasured the dinners with his team far too much to stop, and he enjoyed the freedom and quiet he experienced when in his own apartment.

Throughout lunch, certain questions were nagging Greg, but he refused to pay any attention to them. They continued to bother him, however, and at one point, when the conversation had stilled, and they were both quietly eating, the questions came to the forefront of his mind. Should he be pursuing this relationship? After all, it was tragedy that had brought Lynn to his city – a tragedy that he was directly involved with. Was he using Lynn's horrible situation just to further his own desires? What if she was simply seeing him as 'The Hero of Toronto,' much as Marina had viewed him as her savior at first? While he truly believed that Marina had grown to see him as a man, not a hero, he knew that he couldn't assume Lynn would as well. He couldn't chase these thoughts from his mind entirely, but he was able to push them back until they were just an annoying buzz. He decided that he would just take things slowly and see what happened.

The rest of the day was spent exploring downtown Toronto. They visited the CN Tower and wandered through the Royal Ontario Museum. They walked along the streets, looking in shop windows and laughing about what they would buy if they had all the money in the world. Just before five o'clock, they were standing on the pier of Toronto Island, looking out at Lake Ontario.

Greg had been very amused when Lynn realized that Toronto bordered the lake and that it was only a short distance to the water. She really didn't know anything about the city. Her excitement at the thought of seeing the lake was contagious, and they took a ferry to the island. They then wandered through the center of the island until they reached the beach. Greg had seen the lake more times than he could count, having grown up in Toronto, but Lynn was quick to point out that water was not so abundant in Colorado. She had lived there almost her whole life, and she had never seen a lake so large that she couldn't see the far shore. And the lakes in Colorado didn't have beaches, either, at least not sand ones. Their shorelines were mostly made up of gravel and rocks. So they spent a good amount of time walking along the beach barefoot, hand in hand, Lynn carrying her shoes and Greg with his slung over his shoulder, until they ended up on the pier.

The sun was shining on the water, and Greg slipped his arm around Lynn's shoulders as they stood watching the waves lap against the pier. Her arm moved to his waist, and she leaned into his embrace. He felt, rather than heard, her sigh contentedly, and he tightened his grip, pulling her a little closer to him.

"This was a perfect day," he heard her say quietly. "Thank you, Greg." She pulled away just enough to look up into his face.

Their eyes locked, and he was instantly overwhelmed with a desire to kiss her. His eyes were drawn to her lips, and he put his hands on her shoulders to turn her so that she faced him completely. He let his hands slowly slide up and down her arms, and was gratified to see her eyelids grow heavy and her lips part slightly. He heard her breath quicken, and a dull ache started in his groin as he leaned down, bringing his lips to hers. Suddenly, the nagging questions from earlier flared to life and he stopped. What was he doing? He was taking advantage of her grief by succumbing to his base desires. He held his position for what seemed like forever, feeling her warm breath on his lips and then forced himself to pull back.

Lynn's eyes opened in surprise when she felt him pull away. She was still breathing faster than normal. "What's wrong, Greg?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

He replaced his arm around her shoulder and turned once again to face the lake. "Nothing," he replied, not trusting himself to look at her. _Liar!_ he screamed to himself. _Everything is wrong!_ "I just think we should take things slowly." He sighed deeply as he uttered the worst lie of his life. He didn't want to go slowly; what he wanted was to take Lynn back to her hotel and show her exactly what effect she was having on him. He knew that he couldn't do that, however, at least not until he knew exactly what her feelings for him were.

"Oh, all right," he heard her say quietly as she resumed her former position. He thought he could hear disappointment in her voice. It gave him a small amount of encouragement, but he knew that he would have to address his questions about her soon.

He sighed again and took her hand in his. "I think we should be getting back," he said simply.

The walk back across the island was taken in silence, but it was not the comfortable silence that had filled parts of the day. Greg knew that Lynn was confused, and perhaps a little angry, but he didn't know how he was going to approach the conversation he really didn't want to have.

They got back to his car, and he drove Lynn back to The Hazelton. The silence continued, but as he pulled into the unloading zone and put the car in park, she reached over and placed her hand on his.

"Greg, something happened back there, and I think we need to talk about it. Why don't you come up to my room, and we will order room service for dinner?"

Greg stared out of the front window, not knowing what to say, her words stoking the embers of his desire to a raging inferno. He wasn't at all sure he could control himself if he was alone in her room with her, but then he turned to look at Lynn. Her blue eyes were full of concern, and he knew that she was right. They had both felt something on the pier, and they owed it to themselves to sort out what that was.

He nodded but didn't speak. He wasn't sure he could trust his voice. He kept the car idling, stepped out, and motioned to a valet. The young man quickly came over and stood by the driver's door. He handed Greg a ticket, and Greg walked around the car to Lynn's door, opened it, and helped her out. As the valet drove off, he put his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the hotel. He didn't know how this perfect day was going to end, but he was about to find out.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Greg was sitting on a chair next to the door inside Lynn's hotel room, waiting for her while she was "freshening up" in the bathroom. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and immediately noticed the numerous messages that Ed had left for him. He had kept his phone on silent so that he could focus his attention on Lynn, and she had so captivated him that he had not checked it until now. He glanced at the closed bathroom door, wondering if he had time for a quick call. He decided on a text instead: "Ed, spent the day with Lynn. Will call you later."

Within seconds, an answer arrived: "The woman from last night?"

Greg smiled, remembering that he had failed to let Ed know what had happened at O'Malley's after he left. He had spent the night thinking about Lynn and planning for today.

"Yep, that's her," he texted back. That's as far as he got. The bathroom door began to open, and he hastily shoved the phone back in his pocket. This was going to be hard enough; he didn't need Lynn knowing that he was talking to his buddy about her like he was still in high school.

He started to stand when Lynn walked into the room, but she shook her head and motioned him to remain seated. She took the chair next to Greg's and sat looking at him.

"So, do you want to tell me what that was all about at the pier?"

Greg sighed and put his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. He kept his eyes on his hands as he thought about what to say.

"I don't know…no, wait, I do know," he corrected himself, still staring at his hands. He would not lie to her. He took a deep breath for courage and raised his head to look at her. "Lynn, I wanted to kiss you so badly, but I was afraid I was taking advantage of you."

"Taking advantage of me?" she scoffed. "Why would you ever think that?"

"You are here because of your husband's death, and I was directly involved in the events that caused his death. I don't want you to do something you'll regret later. Last night showed me that you still feel deeply for your husband, and I don't want you to feel guilty about betraying his memory, especially with someone so close to the situation."

She stared at him in disbelief for a moment, and then she slipped out of her chair to kneel in front of him. She covered his hands with her own and looked up at him.

"Greg, I told you this morning that you were the consummate gentlemen, and you have just proven that to me once again. Now, listen to me carefully, because I am only going to say this once. I loved my husband with all my heart, and when he died, I told myself that I would never love again. I have not even dated since that day. I have had no interest in any man whatsoever.

"Yesterday, when I walked into that restaurant and saw you sitting there, although you looked familiar, I truly did not recognize you. After all, I hadn't watched anything about the bombings for over a year. Even when I got the invitation to the memorial ceremony, there was no mention of you."

Greg opened his mouth to comment, but she moved her hand to place one finger over his lips. "No, don't talk; let me finish. This has nothing to do with your job or what happened to my husband. Last night, I cried because I realized that Monday's ceremony would be the end of an eighteen month-long mourning period of my life. I have held in the hurt and pain for a year and a half, never really letting it go. Sure, I talked to people, but deep down I thought that if I didn't continue to dwell on it, I would forget John, and I would have nothing left. I would be alone. But then I met you. You are so handsome and kind, and when we first started to talk, I thought to myself that I had finally found someone whom I might be able to get to know better. When I realized who you were, I knew that you were also someone who understood what I had gone through. The combination of kindness and understanding made you even more attractive to me. When I told you about John, I felt for the first time that it was okay to let him go. I felt like he was telling me it was okay."

Lynn moved forward until she was sitting up on her knees between Greg's legs, her hands on his thighs. This movement brought her eyes level with his. Her touch and the way she was staring at him instantly caused a reaction that he wasn't sure he wanted to control at this point. He didn't trust himself to touch her back, so he sat still, hands gripping the arms of the chair, and waited for her to finish.

"Greg, I think I have finally found someone who can fill the emptiness I've been feeling. John would never have wanted me to be alone for the rest of my life, any more than I would have wanted him to be if he had lost me. I know we just met, and I really appreciate your concern, but I am a big girl, and I promise that I will tell you if something is started that I don't want to finish." With that, she raised her right hand and gently caressed his cheek.

It was more than he could stand, and he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her to him. He stared into her beautiful blue eyes, which had captivated him from the first time he saw her. "Are you sure?" he whispered huskily.

"Positive," she breathed back, and he let his fears go and brought his lips to hers.

The first touch was little more than a brushing of their mouths against each other, but a surge of electricity raced through his body and settled squarely in his groin. He groaned as he shifted his hands until one was at her back and the other was cupping the back of her head. Without breaking contact, he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer and moving his mouth sensually over hers. The moan that escaped her emboldened him further, and he gently probed her lips with his tongue until they separated and he was allowed entry. When their tongues met, another jolt went through him. He explored her lips and mouth thoroughly as his left hand roamed over her back, and his right tangled in her luxurious curls. Her hands had also moved, with one behind his neck and the other firmly splayed on his chest.

They finally broke the kiss as the need for oxygen became urgent, and Greg pulled back slightly so that he could look at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were closed, and her swollen lips were parted, her breath coming out in quick, short gasps. His own breathing was rapid and shallow, and the ache in his groin had grown until he knew she would not be able to miss it if she happened to look. As he watched her, she opened her eyes, looked directly into his, and smiled.

"Wow!" she breathed. "That was incredible."

He smiled back, and slowly stood, bringing her with him. "I agree," he managed. His eyes strayed to her mouth again, and his breathing quickened further as his voice dropped to a whisper. "Incredible enough that I want to do it again," and he quickly claimed her lips for a second time. Their arms wrapped around each other as they kissed passionately, their mouths moving against each other, and their tongues dancing together. Greg spun Lynn around and moved her backwards until she was against the door, and he pinned her there with one hand on either side of her head, his body pressed against hers. He knew that there was no way he could hide his arousal from her now, but he was way beyond caring. He broke off the kiss, only to move his mouth down her jaw to her neck. She brought her head back as far as she could to give him greater access, and he nipped and suckled the pulse point under her jaw. She began to moan softly, and her hands moved to his head, but he grabbed them with his and held them above her head.

"No." He raised his head just long enough to speak that one word.

He held her against the door, preventing her from touching him, and resumed his ministrations. His lips and teeth traced a path down her neck to the indentation between her collarbones. He flicked his tongue out and tasted the sweat that was beading in that spot. She moaned again, louder this time, and squirmed against him. He felt like he was about to lose control completely, but he forced himself to go slowly. His right hand trailed down her arm and cupped her cheek. He lifted his head to bring his mouth back to hers, swallowing the moans.

After what seemed like forever, Lynn freed her hands, placed them on Greg's chest, and pushed him slightly away from her. Not far enough away to separate them fully, but enough that they were no longer kissing. She could feel his heart pounding through his shirt, mimicking the beating of her own. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Greg," she whispered, "stop, please."

He looked at her in confusion. "What…what's wrong?"

Her lips curled in a small smile, and she slid her hands around to the back of his neck. "Nothing is wrong; as a matter of fact, everything is so right that I am afraid we will go too far."

"Oh," he breathed, pulling away from her a little more. Somewhere in his addled brain a tiny spark of reason still remained, and he knew she was right. After all, they had known each other less than a day, but his body was trying its best to overrule his brain.

He cleared his throat and reluctantly moved back until he was only holding Lynn's hands.

"You're right," he said. "This is moving too fast." He hated admitting that, but he knew that they both might regret it if they continued down this road. "To tell the truth, I think that I should go now," he continued.

"Wait," Lynn said, pulling one hand free to clutch his arm, "I didn't mean that you had to leave."

"I know, but I also know that if I don't, I may not be able to stop myself from taking this farther than either of us want to go right now."

He gently took Lynn by the arms and moved her away from the door. He let his hands once again caress her arms as he looked into her eyes.

"I would like to see you again tomorrow, if that's all right," he said softly.

Lynn smiled and nodded her understanding. "That would be wonderful," she replied.

"Good. What time are your children flying in?"

"Their plane lands at 10:30."

"Perfect. How does breakfast sound? Then I can take you to the airport if you'd like."

She put her hands on his waist. "Breakfast sounds great, but I think I should meet their plane alone." She chuckled as she continued, "I don't think I want to have to explain you right off the bat."

"Ha! I guess you are right. Will I meet them later, though?"

"Of course you will. I think that at this point you should meet them after the ceremony, and then, only as Sergeant Greg Parker. They all know who you are, of course, and I don't want them to feel uncomfortable about…this."

Greg frowned, and his hands stopped their motion. "But that means that after breakfast, I won't see you until Monday afternoon. I'm not sure I can handle that, Lynn."

A small laugh escaped Lynn, and she brought a thumb up to trace Greg's downturned lips. She became serious, however, when he grabbed her hand and gently kissed the pad of her thumb.

She took a deep, shaking breath and said, "Greg, I don't want to be away from you that long either, but I am not ready for my children to know about us yet. Think about it from their point of view. Their mother is far from home, grieving for her late husband, and she hooks up with 'The Hero of Toronto' the day after she arrives. I don't think that would come across very well. You had the same reservations, so you wouldn't be able to blame them if they did, too. I want them to like you, and they won't if they think you are manipulating me."

Greg nodded. "You are right, of course. I hadn't thought of it that way." He reluctantly released Lynn. His hands immediately itched to grab her again and pull her to him, but he checked that impulse. "I will force myself to wait, although it will not be done happily." His smile told Lynn that he really was okay with her decision, though.

"Thank you, Greg."

"You are more than welcome, Lynn." He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on her lips and then moved to retrieve his cane from where he had placed it next to his chair. He walked to the door and opened it. "I will see you tomorrow, okay? Eight o'clock again?"

"Eight o'clock," she agreed.

As he moved to leave, he felt Lynn's hand on his arm. He looked back at her, and she said, "Greg?"

"Yes?" He turned to face her again.

"I just wanted to say that the perfect day ended perfectly."

He let the back of his right hand gently caress Lynn's cheek, and then he reluctantly left the room, closing the door behind him. When he heard the click that told him it was shut, he leaned back against it, resting his head against the wood. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. After a while, he managed to get himself under control, and he pushed himself away from the door.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

It was only a little after six thirty when Greg walked out of the hotel and handed his ticket to the valet. As he waited for his car to be brought around, he looked up at the sky, which was still the same brilliant blue. The temperature was very comfortable, in the high 60s, and Greg had to admit that Lynn was right: the perfect day had ended perfectly.

The valet stopped in front of him, left the car idling, and relinquished the driver's seat to Greg. Greg slid into the car and started the drive to his apartment. He had only gone a few blocks when he changed his mind, however. At a red light, he dialed Eddie's number. It was answered on the first ring.

"Greg? Where in the hell have you been? You don't call, you don't write."

"Good to hear your voice, too, buddy," Greg chuckled. "Hey, I was wondering if you were busy right now."

"Nope, just hanging out at home. Why? You want to meet somewhere?"

"I would actually just like to come over there if that's all right. I need to talk to you."

"Sure thing. We're just about to have dinner, but if you're close, I'm sure Sophie can set another place for you."

"That would be great." Greg suddenly realized that he and Lynn had never ordered the room service that had been mentioned, and his stomach growled. "I haven't eaten since lunch. I'm about fifteen minutes away. See you soon." He hung up just as the light turned green.

He arrived at Eddie's house in less time than he had expected, and he walked up the pathway to the front door. When he rang the doorbell, it was answered by Ed immediately.

"Hey, Greg, come on in," he said, throwing an arm around Greg's shoulder and ushering him into the house. "Sophie's in the kitchen finishing up. Want something to drink?"

"Yeah, thanks," Greg replied, sitting down on the living room couch.

Ed didn't need to ask what he wanted, because Greg always drank a Diet Coke when he came over. No one else in the Lane household liked the soda, but Eddie made sure there were always a few in the fridge for his friend. He came back into the living room, Greg's Coke in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

Greg nodded his thanks and took the can. As he popped the top, he asked, "So, where are Clark and Izzy?"

Ed's son, Clark, was the same age as Dean, and he was living at home while going to college.

"Clark's studying at the library, and Izzy's with Sophie's parents."

It suddenly dawned on Greg that it was Saturday night. Saturday nights were Ed and Sophie's date nights.

"Oh, geez, Ed, I'm so sorry. I've interrupted your date." He placed the soda can on the coffee table and started to stand up.

Ed put his hand on Greg's shoulder and pushed him back onto the couch. "Don't worry about it, buddy. I'm fine, and so is Sophie." He chuckled. "It's not like we had anything huge planned anyway. Just a nice night without the kids. Well, the kids are still not here, so our plans haven't changed at all."

Greg smiled appreciatively and was about to speak when Sophie poked her head into the room.

"Dinner's ready," she announced.

The two men grabbed their drinks and stood up. As they walked to the table, Greg reached out and pulled Sophie into a hug.

"How are you doing, Soph?" he asked.

"Just fine, Greg, thank you." she returned the hug and then held him at arm's length and studied him for a moment. "What about you? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I think so," he said cryptically. "Thanks for letting me crash your date night."

"No problem," she laughed. "You know you are always welcome here."

Greg smiled his appreciation, and the three of them sat down to eat. Sophie had made lasagna, garlic bread, and a salad, and the conversation was light as they ate. Nothing was said about Greg's enigmatic text messages from earlier, and when dinner was over, Greg and Ed helped Sophie clear the table. They would have helped with the dishes, but Sophie insisted that she could handle it just fine and shooed the men out of the kitchen.

They made their way back to the living room and sat down on the couch. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Ed took that opportunity to study his best friend.

What he saw was a man who was happy, which was not Greg's normal state lately. But beneath the happiness, Ed saw something else he couldn't quite place, but thought might be apprehension. He really wanted to know what was going on. He was a patient man, however, and he knew that Greg would talk when he was ready.

When Greg didn't speak for a few minutes, however, instead just staring at the coffee table, Ed decided to get the conversation going. "So," he said, sitting back against the arm of the couch and turning slightly toward Greg, "what did you need to talk about?"

Greg took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. He let it out slowly and then said, "You remember the woman from O'Malley's last night, right?"

Ed grinned. "Of course I do; she was beautiful, and, unless I miss my mark, she was interested in you."

"You are right on both counts. As a matter of fact, after you left, we talked for quite a while."

At this point, Sophie came into the room. She leaned over and whispered something in Ed's ear, and he smiled and nodded to her.

"Don't mind me," she said to Greg, and then she grabbed a book and headed to the hammock in the backyard.

Greg filled Eddie in on the conversation that had occurred the night before, and then he told him about the day he had just spent with Lynn. He told Eddie everything, even about what had happened in Lynn's hotel room.

"Eddie, she just completely overwhelmed me. I have never wanted to be with a woman so much in my entire life. If she hadn't stopped me tonight, I'm pretty sure I know how this night would have ended."

Ed had remained silent throughout the whole telling, and now he thought carefully. He sat up and clasped his hands in front of him.

"So what's the problem? You like her, and from your story, I'd say she likes you. Is it that she's just visiting? Are you afraid that you are falling for a woman who will be leaving soon?"

Greg started, his eyes going wide. "Wow, I hadn't even thought of that. I guess I didn't want to think about it. But, no, that's not the real problem. Although a long distance relationship is definitely not ideal, I would be willing to try it with Lynn, if necessary. No, the real problem is that I don't know if things will fall apart after the ceremony on Monday. Will she blame me for her husband's death? Or, on the flip side, is this all just a case of hero worship like with Marina?" He stopped and looked down at his hands.

"Well," Ed said slowly, "from what you've told me, she was attracted to you even before she knew who you were, so, from that, I'd say hero worship is out."

"But she said I looked familiar, so maybe subconsciously she did know who I was, and that is what she found attractive."

"I suppose that is possible. Now, don't interrupt. About the other part, you can't know what will happen after Monday. She may be angry, although I think it would be anger at the situation, not at you. She may realize that she has made a big mistake and never want to see you again. There are a thousand scenarios that may happen. But you have to remember that one of them is that she may have the exact same feelings for you as you do for her. It all boils down to this: I think you owe it to yourself and her to just let this play out and see what comes of it, if anything."

Greg sat silently and thought about what Eddie had said. He certainly hoped that Lynn returned his feelings, and if the kisses at the hotel were any indication, he had good reason to think she did. He was still afraid of how things might change once the highly emotional ceremony was over, but he realized that Ed was right. There was no sense in worrying about it, because nothing he could do between now and then would change anything. He also realized that Lynn was right about them not seeing each other after tomorrow morning, not only for the reasons she had stated, but because that time apart would let both of them think about what had happened and what they wanted to happen in the future. Even though he had only known Lynn one day, Greg was absolutely certain that he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible before she went home. He hadn't even considered what would it would be like when she did go home, but he saved those thoughts for later.

He looked at Ed and smiled. "You know what? You're right. I'm just going to take it as it comes. What happens, happens. Roll with the punches."

"Okay, okay," Eddie laughed and raised his hands in surrender. "Enough with the clichés already! Seriously, though, Greg, I'm here if you need me; you know that."

"I do, buddy, thanks." The men stood up, shook hands, and walked to the door.

Greg opened the door and then turned back to Ed. "Tell Sophie bye for me," he said, looking at his friend gratefully.

"Will do," Ed replied, and Greg headed for his car.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Greg was back at The Hazelton promptly at eight the next morning. He and Lynn had decided to eat breakfast in the hotel's restaurant to save time. There seemed to be a silent agreement that nothing of substance would be spoken of while they ate, but the meal was still very pleasant, and they held hands whenever they weren't eating.

One topic, however, caused a slight amount of friction. As they were waiting for the check, Greg insisted on driving Lynn to the airport, and she insisted on taking a cab. After a few minutes, though, Greg came out victorious. He told Lynn that it was silly to pay cab fare when he was perfectly willing to drive her.

"Besides," he said, "you don't know the airport, and I do. I will make sure that you get to the right meeting place, and then I promise to leave you to meet your kids alone." _Although, I won't like it one bit_, he added to himself.

Lynn smiled and nodded. "All right, Greg, you win."

Greg grinned like a schoolboy who had just been given a valentine from the girl he liked.

"Great! That's settled, then."

The waiter came with the check, and Lynn signed for it using her room number. After the waiter left, Greg stood up and walked behind Lynn, pulling her chair out for her.

Lynn really appreciated these little acts of chivalry. John had also believed that men should treat women with respect, and it was comforting to know that Greg had the same habits. She had never thought that holding a door or pulling out a chair was condescending or insulting. On the contrary, she felt that these acts showed that the man truly cared about making the woman feel special.

"Thank you, Greg," she said, and her smile warmed him.

"Don't mention it," he replied and placed his hand around her waist.

They got to Toronto Pearson International Airport just after nine thirty, and Greg parked in the short-term parking lot. When they entered the terminal, the first thing they did was check the arrivals board. Lynn's family had taken a non-stop flight from Denver, and the board showed that it was on time. Greg knew that Lynn wasn't allowed to go directly to the gate to meet her family, so he guided her toward the baggage claim. Just outside this area was a space designed for meeting arriving passengers. Greg led Lynn to a bench near the windows and sat down.

Lynn looked at him suspiciously. "I thought you said you were leaving now, Greg."

"I will, don't worry," he replied, getting settled on the bench. He reached up, took Lynn by the hand, and pulled her down next to him. "But it's only nine thirty. Their plane doesn't land for another hour, and then they have to go through customs. That will take at least another half an hour." He grinned at her. "I promise to leave before eleven, all right?"

She smiled and relaxed against him when he put his arm around her shoulder. "All right." She let out a little laugh. "I guess I didn't realize how nervous I am."

"Nervous about what?" he asked.

"The ceremony tomorrow, my kids meeting you, just everything," she said and then fell silent, her head on his shoulder and her hand on his thigh.

Greg caught his breath as she unconsciously began to trace small circles right above his knee, and he pulled her more tightly to him, softly kissing the top of her head. Her hair had a marvelous smell, but he couldn't quite place it. All he could recognize was a slight minty aroma, but there was something else, too. The two of them sat in silence for a while, merely enjoying the contact and companionship.

They eventually began to talk again. Lynn talked about her childhood growing up in the mountains of Colorado. She spoke of spending summer days roaming the woods with her friends, finding abandoned cabins and using them as playhouses. She said she had been born in Chicago, but her parents had really loved Colorado, so they had moved there when she was just over one year old. She had an older brother and an older sister, and the three of them spent their childhoods living outside of a small town on the western slopes of the Rocky Mountains. She had met John when she was seventeen years old and a junior in high school. He lived in Grand Junction, about fifty miles to the west, but his grandparents had moved to her town when they retired, and he came often to visit them. He was six years older than she was, and her parents were not thrilled with the idea of them seeing each other, but he was a decent, loving man, and their hearts were quickly won over. John and Lynn dated for two years and married in the summer, one year after she graduated, and moved to his home in Grand Junction.

Their life had been perfect. She got pregnant almost immediately, and within eight years, five children had been born to them. They decided together that it was best for her to stay at home with the children, and, since John's job paid more than enough, Lynn was able to be with her kids full-time. She and John attended every school play, every sports game, and helped chaperone most school functions. All five children attended the same schools, so the Mitchell family became very well-known in the educational community. Her children were involved in sports, band, and other school activities, and the Mitchell parents were just as involved, holding positions with parent-teacher organizations, band boosters, and as team parents. As they grew up, Lynn began to make plans to go to college herself. She ended up getting her teacher's certification and began working in the high school her children were attending. There were things she saw in the public school system that she thought could be improved upon, and she decided that the only way to implement her ideas was to start a private school. Her school, The American Academy of Distinction, was now in its fourth year, and she felt that it was the best move she had ever made.

Greg had not spoken while Lynn told her story, but when she finished, he began his own. He had been born in Scarborough, an only child. He grew up there, doing typical city kid things: playing street hockey in front of his house, using coats or trash cans as goals, riding bikes to the corner store with his friends, and, as he got older, taking a cab downtown to see a movie. He had a wonderful childhood with loving parents and good friends. When he was sixteen, there was a career day at his secondary school. One of the professionals that came to speak was a member of the Toronto SRU. Greg was instantly hooked. He knew then that he wanted to be a police officer. He did intense research on the necessary requirements for applying and made sure that he completed everything. He poured himself into learning everything he could about police work. Immediately after graduation, he began the process of becoming a Police Constable.

The day he received the rank of Constable was the proudest day of his life. On that day, he vowed to be the best police officer he could and to never compromise his integrity. His parents were at the ceremony, and it was the first and last time he had ever seen his father cry.

He rose quickly through the ranks, and eventually became a detective in Homicide Division. He spent five years there, witnessing some of the worst atrocities one person could inflict on another. He was more than ready to move on when he heard of an opening in the SRU. He jumped at the chance to be a part of a team that could help resolve situations before they escalated into what he had seen the past years.

Out of the hundreds of applicants for the position, he had been chosen. When he was informed of this decision by the team Sergeant, he hadn't been able to stop the tears that had suddenly blurred his vision. He had blinked them back, though, and firmly shook the hand of his new Boss.

"Thank you, sir," he had said huskily. "I won't let you down."

"I know you won't, son," the Sergeant had replied, and then led Greg to the supply room to get his new gear.

Ten years and eight months later, having progressed from team member, to team leader, up to the Sergeant of Team One, Greg found himself in the middle of the worst terrorist attack Canada had ever known.

Lynn had not said a single word as Greg talked, and when he finished, she simply smiled up at him. He slowly leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. They separated, and he pulled her to him again.

"You know," he began, "we are two incredible people."

He sounded so completely serious that Lynn could not help but laugh.

"What?" he said, sounding offended, but with a smile that said otherwise. "We are. You, Lynn Mitchell, mother of five fantastic children and founder of her own school, and me…"

"Sergeant Gregory Parker, The Hero of Toronto," she finished for him.

"Exactly," he chuckled, squeezing her shoulder. As he did, he glanced up at the clock on the wall and saw that it was almost eleven. The time had just flown by. He sighed deeply, bowed his head, and closed his eyes.

"Greg, what's wrong?" Lynn sat up and looked at him.

"Nothing," he replied. He reluctantly opened his eyes and raised his head. "It's just that it is time for me to go, and I don't want to."

Lynn smiled and said, "Gregory Parker, I do believe you are pouting."

"No, I'm not," he said petulantly, but she was right. He felt like he used to when he was six and his mother wouldn't let him get a candy bar at the store.

She reached a hand to his face and traced the frown lines between his eyebrows. "Yes, you are. Five children, remember? I know pouting when I see it." She leaned forward and kissed the spot her fingers had just left, her lips feeling like a brand on his skin.

He sighed again and cupped her face. "I can't believe how much I am going to miss you, Lynn," he said sincerely.

She instantly became serious and moved her hands to his shoulders. "I know, Greg, believe me, but we'll be together again tomorrow afternoon."

"Damn it, that's too long!" Greg ground out, and he crushed his lips to hers; he didn't care that they were in the middle of the airport with people pointing and whispering.

It wasn't a long kiss, but it was so full of desire that it left them both breathless. As they pulled apart, Lynn pulled Greg's hands down and gently squeezed them.

"Greg, you really have to go." Her voice was thick with need and regret.

"I know, I know," and he kissed her hands before standing up. He slipped his hands out of hers and grabbed his cane. "I will see you tomorrow," he said, his voice filled with anguish and promise.

Lynn simply nodded, and Greg turned away. When he got to the terminal doors, he looked back. She was still watching him, and when she saw him turn, she raised one hand in a wave and smiled. He waved back but couldn't bring himself to return the smile. The simple act of walking away from her made it feel as if his heart was being ripped from his chest.

As he got to his car, he realized that he had fallen fast and hard for Lynn Mitchell.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

The time away from Lynn turned out to be a good thing, although Greg didn't want to admit it. As soon as he arrived at his apartment, his phone began to ring. He spent the rest of the day finalizing plans for the next day's ceremony. Hours were spent making sure that every detail was covered; everyone involved wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong. Although he never left his apartment, Greg still felt exhausted at the end of the day, and, after a quick dinner, he fell into bed early, making sure to set his alarm first. The ceremony was set to begin at ten forty-five, but he had to be there by seven o'clock.

He woke the next morning before his alarm sounded, and he flipped the switch to 'off' before getting up to shower. As the water streamed over him, he ran the ceremony's program through his mind. It would start with a flag ceremony, with the Canadian flag and the American flag presented, the mayor speaking briefly about that tragic day, and then, at 11:36, Greg would come to the podium. He would call for a moment of silence, and then, at 11:38, a bell would sound, after which, Greg would begin reading off the names of the victims, the bell sounding again after each name. This part of the ceremony had to be timed perfectly, because the first bomb had detonated at exactly 11:38. He would read the names of the dead at the Health and Welfare Office first, followed by the City Hall victims, and lastly, the three from the Casey Jeffers Building. He thought it was fitting that Donna and Jimmy would be named last, as they were the only first responder fatalities, and he wanted their names to be in everyone's minds. The rest of the ceremony would be taken up with the unveiling of the monument. There were also some plaques to be given out to those people who had performed admirably that day. Greg knew that he was to be one of the recipients, along with the other members of Team One. He honestly wasn't looking forward to that part.

He finished his shower and put on his dress uniform, making sure that everything was perfect. He ate breakfast and headed toward the memorial site. The location was in Queen's Park, chosen because it was roughly in the center of the rectangle formed by the four locations where bombs had detonated. _At least_, he thought, _there are no names to read from the Emergency Medical Services Building._ He shuddered as he once again thought of the fact that he could have been reading off Sam's name today. He arrived at the memorial site and parked in his reserved spot.

When he got to the stage, the rest of his team was already there: Eddie, Spike, Sam, Jules, and Leah. Winnie was also with them, having been the one who helped keep them all together that day. He felt a surge of pride fill him when he saw them in their dress blues. It still pained him when he thought about the fact that the team would never work together again, but he was intensely proud to be with them today. He walked up to them, handshakes and hugs going all around. They talked for a moment about how they were all doing, and Greg pointedly ignored the inquisitive look that Eddie gave him. He wasn't about to get into that now.

The time passed quickly as they went through the last-minute preparations, and it seemed like just moments before the families of the victims began to arrive, filling the rows of seats that had been reserved for them. Greg watched intently, barely hearing the noise around him, as he watched for Lynn and her family. He had pulled some strings and reserved seats for them in the first visitors' row, and it wasn't long before he saw them walking down the center aisle. He was standing in the staging area to the side of the stage, and his breath caught in his throat when he looked at her.

She was wearing a white blouse underneath a dark blue jacket, a black knee-length skirt, and black pumps. He had not had an opportunity to see her legs before, since she had worn slacks and jeans, and now he couldn't seem to drag his eyes away from them. They were shapely and well-formed, clad in nude nylons. The pumps accentuated them, and Greg couldn't help but think she was more beautiful today than he had seen her yet.

He jumped a little at the touch on his shoulder, and he blushed when Ed whispered in his ear, "You're being a little obvious, Greg; you might want to tone it down a little."

Greg nodded and forced himself to look at anything but Lynn. It was then that he noticed the people surrounding her. There were four men and three women in the group. He knew that three of the men were her sons and the other was her son-in-law. Two of the women were her daughters and the third was her oldest son's fiancé. He could easily pick which were her children because one of the men was holding the hand of one of the women, so that had to be John with his fiancé, and another man was holding the hand of another of the women, and she was obviously pregnant, so that had to be May and her husband. The three unattached people had to be her two other sons and youngest daughter.

They made a fine-looking group, and Greg was happy that Lynn could have her family here with her for this. He only wished that he could be sitting with her as well. He was about to turn away to prepare for the ceremony when Lynn suddenly looked up and locked eyes with him as if she could feel him watching her. She smiled slightly, and he returned it briefly before breaking contact and moving to his predetermined position for the opening of the ceremony.

He was to sit on the stage the entire time, while his team was part of the many police, firefighters, and paramedics who would fill the first five rows in the audience. He just hoped he could keep his mind and eyes on his task and not let either of them wander to Lynn.

The seats in the audience quickly filled, first with victims' families, and behind them, members of the general public. Exactly at nine o'clock, he joined the mayor and others as they climbed the steps to the stage and stood in front of their seats. The caller for the color guard stepped to the microphone.

"Everyone, please rise and remove your hats."

Greg's hat remained on, but he snapped to attention, as did the rest of the first responders that were present. He saluted smartly as the flag bearers made their way down the center aisle, holding his position as they placed the two nations' flags in the stands on the stage, and as the national anthems of both nations were played, first "O Canada," and then "The Star-Spangled Banner."

When the flag ceremony was completed, and the color guard dismissed, everyone sat down. The mayor walked to the podium and gave his short speech, none of which Greg actually heard. He was too busy taking deep breaths and trying to calm himself before he had to perform his part. He was not at all sure he could get through all fifty-seven names without breaking down, but he was going to do his best.

He brought his attention back to the mayor as he heard him say, "Please welcome Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker of the Toronto Police Service."

He stood and walked to the podium as the audience broke out in respectful applause. He shook the mayor's hand and whispered a thank you. He leaned his cane against the podium and looked at the clock on the top of it. 11:37. Perfect.

He placed the list of names in front of him and took a deep breath. Looking out over the audience, deliberately not looking at Lynn, he began, the applause dying down as he raised his hand.

"Thank you very much. I would now ask that we observe a moment of silence in remembrance of the lives that were lost to us."

Not a sound came from anyone as the clock ticked slowly toward 11:38. Greg watched the seconds pass, and exactly on time, a small bell rang to his left.

"Andrew Robert Palmer, age 32, York, Ontario, Canada." Ding. "Ann Kay Nguyen, age 25, Port Colborne, Ontario, Canada." Ding. "Reisa Helen Calderwood, age 19, Selkirk, Manitoba, Canada." Ding.

Greg continued down the list, pausing slightly before each name. He was doing all right until he got to the last name on the list of the Health and Welfare victims. He had to stop and swallow the lump in his throat before he could continue, but a tear still escaped his eye and slowly traced a path down his cheek.

He sniffed and raised his white-gloved hand to wipe it away as he said, "Ethan Walker Lee, age 5, Clarington, Ontario, Canada." Ding.

The list continued on with the City Hall victims, and again, he did fine until about halfway down.

"John Thomas Mitchell, age 51, Grand Junction, Colorado, United States of America." Ding.

He couldn't resist glancing up at Lynn. She had her head buried in her son's chest, and even from that distance, he could see her shoulders shaking. He desperately wanted to be the one comforting her, but he knew he had a job to finish.

He read more and more names until he got to the last three. The first of these three was bitter on his tongue, for if it hadn't been for this man, none of this would have happened. He was still a victim, however, and Greg read his name.

"Anson Pascal Holt, age 61, Mississauga, Ontario, Canada." Ding.

That left the last two. He was unable to stop the tears now, and they fell freely. His voice shook as the words left his mouth.

"Sergeant Donna Anne Sabine-Gerald, age 42, Brampton, Ontario, Canada." Ding. "Constable James Robert Campbell, age 38, Toronto, Ontario, Canada." Ding.

The silence that followed the last bell was broken only by quiet sobs from the audience. Greg gathered his papers, grabbed his cane, and slowly walked back to his seat. As he sat down, the man sitting next to him placed his hand on Greg's back, silently comforting him. Greg raised his tear-stained face to him and nodded his thanks.

The mayor had gotten back to the podium and was asking everyone to stand and turn toward the canvas-covered monument to the right of the stage. Greg stood with everyone else, wiping his face as he did. He again snapped to attention and saluted as a group of first responders slowly drew the canvas from the granite slab.

When it was revealed, a subdued gasp came from the audience. The monument was absolutely beautiful. Crafted from black granite and polished to a glorious shine, it was seven feet tall and eight feet wide. On it was etched the same list that Greg had just read, the words gilded in gold. On the top corners of the monument were carved the Canadian and American flags. Between the flags was the date of the bombings along with the phrase, "Rest in Peace." A small moat surrounded the monument, which was in turn encircled by a flower bed filled with marigolds, signifying grief; bellflowers, signifying loss; and gladioluses, signifying remembrance.

There was no applause or noise as people simply studying the monument. After a few moments, the mayor invited everyone to be seated, and he began the last part of the ceremony.

"A year and a half ago, this city endured the worst day in its history. The terror that had struck numerous cities around the world finally came to our shores. Too many people lost their lives that day, and it is those whom we memorialize forever. However, we would also like to acknowledge those who laid their lives on the line to help control the chaos, to rescue those who were trapped in the collapsed buildings, and to find the man responsible for this horror."

With that, the mayor began to read out the names of police officers, firefighters, doctors, paramedics, 911 dispatchers, and other emergency personnel who went above and beyond their call of duty that day. Each of the recipients came up to the stage and accepted their plaque while shaking the mayor's hand. The audience clapped respectfully after each presentation. This continued for about forty-five minutes, and then there were only seven plaques left.

The mayor paused and waited until the audience was quiet.

"These last recognitions go to a group of individuals who did the most to save the city that day. These individuals not only found the man responsible, they also diffused several additional bombs, preventing unimaginable chaos, death, and destruction, all at serious risk to their own lives. Although a fourth bomb was detonated, this team made sure there was no further loss of life. Please help me thank Staff Sergeant Gregory Dean Parker, Sergeant Edward Tucker Lane, Constable Samuel William Braddock, Constable Julianna Marie Callaghan-Braddock, Constable Michaelangelo Abele Scarlatti, Constable Leah Anne Kerns, and Constable Edwina Audrey Camden."

There was no polite applause this time. As Greg stood and his team rose from the audience to walk to the stage, everyone else also stood, and a thunderous round of applause ensued. Greg hated the attention, but he knew how the city saw him and his friends. They were heroes in the eyes of the people, and nothing he could say would change that image. His team solemnly climbed the steps, took their plaques from the mayor and shook his hand. It had been determined early on that Greg would be the spokesman for the group, and he resumed his spot at the podium, the other six forming a half-circle behind him. The audience slowly quieted and resumed their seats.

Greg breathed deeply and looked at the people sitting before him. They had all been through so much, and he didn't want to make their pain worse. He had struggled with this speech, and he hoped he did the victims, their families, his team, and his city proud.

"Thank you. I am sure I speak for my team when I say that we are honored that you would recognize us in this manner. Along with all of you, that day eighteen months ago was the one of the worst of our lives. It started as one of the best, though. That morning we were attending the wedding of Sam and Jules." He stopped and looked back at them with tears in his eyes. Looking back at the audience, he continued. "We still had to work that day, however, and right after the wedding, we all went to the station. We were only there a short time when we got the call about a suspicious package at the 911 call center. That is what started it. The rest of the day was full of fear, pain, and terror. I know that you may look at all of us: police, firefighters, paramedics, and others and see heroes, but we were just like you that day. We had family members missing and friends who lost their lives. We were injured and scared, and we cried. But through it all, the emergency personnel of this city still did their jobs. I know that not every deserving person was recognized here today, and I would like to say thank you to them all – every police officer who held someone as they grieved, every firefighter who helped someone out of a building, and every doctor or paramedic who treated an injured person. I want to thank the 911 dispatchers and operators who refused to leave when the first bomb was discovered, knowing that there were still people who needed them. I want to thank every person in this city who helped someone else that day, whether it was with water, shelter, or simply comfort. You all are the real heroes. If I could, I would give a plaque to each and every one of you, but know that I think of all of you every day, and I will never forget what this city and its people did for each other that day. Thank you, Toronto, and God bless." And with that, Greg stepped away from the podium.

One person began to clap and then the applause crescendoed into a roar as the audience surged to their feet, clapping not only for the seven people on the stage, but for everyone who performed heroically that fateful day. It continued as Greg's team exited the stage and Greg resumed his seat. Even when the mayor took the podium for the last time, it took quite a while for everyone to quiet down. After Greg sat down, he chanced a look at Lynn. She was applauding just as loudly as everyone else, but her eyes were sad as they locked on his. A small smile formed on her face, though, as he looked at her, and he returned it gratefully.

Eventually, the noise quieted, but Greg heard nothing of the mayor's closing remarks. He continued to watch Lynn; he couldn't help himself. He had an overwhelming urge to race down the stage steps, take her in his arms, and kiss away the sorrow he saw. He forced himself to calm down and managed to sit silently through the rest of the ceremony. It was only about ten minutes later when the mayor thanked everyone for coming and asked them to stand for the retrieval of the flags. Greg stood at attention and saluted for the last time as the color guard removed the flags from the stage and replaced them in holders on either side of the memorial. When they finished and marched to the back of the crowd, the ceremony was over, and Greg let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

He left the stage with the others, and his team, along with Dean, met him at the bottom of the stairs. Dean immediately pulled him into a hug, and he returned it desperately, his eyes filling with tears again. "Great job, Dad," Dean whispered.

"Thank you, son." He held on to Dean as if his life depended on it, and Dean held him just as tightlyl. The two of them stood there for a long while, not speaking. Finally, Greg pulled away and looked at Dean.

"I want you to know that I love you, Deano, more than anything in the world, and I am honored to be your father. You let me back into your life without knowing how it would turn out, trusting that everything would be okay, and I can never repay you for that. After I got hurt, when I tried to push you away, you pushed right back. You are a good and noble young man, and I only see great things in your future, and I am blessed that you have allowed me to be a part of them." Greg's voice caught, and he pulled Dean back into his embrace and kissed the top of his head.

Spike stepped forward and placed his hand on Greg's shoulder. Greg released Dean and turned to him.

"Sono fiero di voi, il mio padre."* Spike said softly.

The tears in Greg's eyes spilled over, and he grabbed Spike's head and kissed his forehead. "Come io lo sono di te, figlio mio."**

The rest of the team approached him and offered their thanks and hugs. The last to grab him was Eddie. He pulled Greg into a bear hug, his body shaking and his voice thick with the tears streaming down his own face.

"I am so humbled to be able to call you friend, Greg, more than you will ever know."

Greg couldn't speak, he was crying so hard at this point, and he just buried his face against Ed's shoulder. They stood that way for several moments, and then Ed pulled away, cleared his throat, and said, "I think there is someone who wants to talk to you."

Greg looked at him, his mind not working right, but Ed only nodded his head toward someone behind Greg. Greg let go of him, turned around, and saw Lynn standing there with her family. He hastily wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, feeling the familiar ache at the sight of her. Her eyes were swollen and rimmed with red, but they were still just as captivating as ever. As a matter of fact, he didn't think he had ever seen her more beautiful than at this very moment.

He sensed more than saw Ed lead the others away, and by the time Lynn got to him, he was standing alone at the bottom of the steps.

"Sergeant Parker?"

Greg admired the way Lynn was able to speak as if nothing had happened between them. He desperately hoped it was an act, though, and not a change of heart. He wasn't sure what he would do if the latter was the case, but he pulled himself together; he could do this, for Lynn's sake if for nothing else. He smiled graciously and shook her hand. He squeezed her hand slightly and was rewarded with a small smile.

"Mrs. Mitchell, how nice to see you again." He was happy that his voice and hand were steady.

"Nice to see you, too." She removed her hand from Greg's. "I would like you to meet my family. I told them that I had met you earlier, and they really wanted to meet you. This is my oldest son, John, and his fiancé, Amanda."

"Very nice to meet you," he managed, not realizing until now that he was really nervous about meeting them. He shook the hands of the rest of her children and her son-in-law as Lynn introduced each of them.

"We were wondering if you had plans right now, Sergeant. We would like to take you out to lunch, if that works for you," John spoke up.

Lynn smiled as a shocked look passed over Greg's face before he could stop it. He composed himself quickly, however, and hoped her children hadn't seen it. "That would be just fine," he said. "Give me about ten minutes to finish up here, and we can go."

"We'll wait right here," she responded, and he smiled at her before he turned to walk behind the stage.

* * *

_*Sono fiero di voi, il mio padre. = I am proud of you, my father._

_**Come io lo sono di te, figlio mio. = As I am of you, my son._


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

As he rounded the stage, Greg smacked squarely into Ed who was waiting for him.

"Geez, Eddie, what are you still doing here?" He looked around and noticed that the whole team was still there, as well as Dean, Sophie and Clark, Wordy, and his wife, Shelley. All the little girls were also in attendance, with Sam holding Sadie, Izzy with her arms wrapped around Sophie's leg, and the three Wordsworth girls, Lilly, Claire, and Allie surrounding their parents.

Ed did his best to look offended, but he couldn't quite pull it off. "Waiting for you, of course. We have reservations for lunch, remember?"

Greg raised one hand to his face and groaned. Being around Lynn had completely wiped that knowledge from his mind. He didn't want to let his family and friends down, but Lynn and her family were waiting for him. He dropped his voice to a whisper and said, "I honestly forgot about our plans, Eddie. Lynn's family just invited me to lunch, and I can't tell them that I changed my mind."

"No worries," Ed replied, "just ask them to join us." He turned to the rest of the team and raised his voice a little. "Hey, guys, do you mind if we add a few people to our group for lunch? Greg's met some people he'd like to introduce us to."

No one had any objections to that, and Ed flashed a grin at Greg. "It's settled, then. Go and ask Lynn's family if they want to come with us."

Greg had to admit it was not a bad idea. "All right. Hold on a minute, Eddie," and he turned to round the stage once again.

He didn't miss the amused look on Ed's face, but he ignored it and walked back to the Mitchell family. Lynn looked surprised to see him so soon, but she said nothing.

"Lynn, my team is also going out to lunch. What do you think about combining our two groups? They would like to meet you as well."

Lynn thought about it for a moment and then turned to her family. "I don't mind; what do you guys think?"

Her children all agreed; they had heard almost as much about his team as they had about him through all of the news stories, and they welcomed the opportunity to meet them as well. Greg led them to the back of the stage, and the next few minutes were spent with introductions. Greg introduced Lynn to the others, and she in turn introduced her family to everyone. Greg couldn't hide the pride in his voice as Lynn shook hands with Dean, and she thought that he was a fine-looking boy.

With that taken care of, the discussion turned to lunch. Ed had already called O'Malley's the day before and had reserved the large room in back, so there was no problem with the extra people. Ed simply called the restaurant and told them there would be eight more people for lunch. Everyone headed to their cars. Lynn's family had rented a van for the day, and John said he'd just follow Greg to the restaurant.

The drive took about fifteen minutes, but it took about ten more before everyone found a parking spot. Eventually, though, everyone was seated, and orders had been taken. The room had been rearranged so that there was one large rectangle of tables in the room, all the chairs surrounding it. In this way, everyone could see and hear everyone else. Greg had managed to seat himself next to Lynn, and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. He sat quietly, simply enjoying Lynn's presence and forcing himself to not look directly at her. He knew that the moment he did, anyone who was watching would know exactly how he felt about her.

On the other side of Greg, Ed was leaning his elbows on the table and talking with Lynn across Greg. Greg simply sat back in his chair and let them continue their conversation. He used this opportunity to watch everyone else. While Lynn's family was on one side of the rectangle and everyone else was along the other sides, there were many conversations going on, both with people next to each other and with those across the table. No one seemed to want to talk about the ceremony or the day they had just memorialized, and all of the conversations were light and inconsequential, though Greg could still feel tension in the air. It was as if the entire room was forcing themselves to be cheerful when what they really wanted to do was break down and cry.

Dean, Clark and Lynn's youngest daughter, Rose, had designated themselves as the babysitters of the group, and they sat at the opposite end from Greg and Lynn, all of the little girls near them in their chairs and highchairs. Greg couldn't hear what they were saying, but Rose had Wordy's girls giggling uncontrollably. Even Izzy and Sadie were laughing, and Dean and Clark were hanging on her every word. The irony was not lost on Greg that his son seemed to be fascinated with the daughter of the woman for whom he had fallen so hard and fast.

Spike was having a discussion with Winnie and William, while May and her husband, Ramon Valdez, were talking with Sam and Jules. Greg could hear bits of these conversations, and he soon realized that William was just as much a geek as Spike. He was reminded that this was the son who was working on his engineering degree, so that didn't surprise him at all. At the moment, they were discussing the latest changes in Java programming. The discussion between the Braddocks and the Valdezes was centered around babies. It was obvious that May was pregnant, and she was asking Jules all sorts of questions while Sam and Ramon talked about how a baby changed your life.

Wordy and Shelley were discussing, or rather, arguing sports with John and Amanda. It turned out that all four of them were huge hockey fans, although, unsurprisingly, the Wordsworths loved the Maple Leafs while the Mitchells supported the Avalanche. James, Leah, and Sophie had joined Lynn and Ed's conversation, but Greg was too busy with watching everyone else to pay attention to what they were talking about, even though they were right around him.

The food came, and the table became quieter as everyone focused on their plates. Greg took this opportunity to slip his hand under the table and briefly lay his hand on Lynn's thigh. He was gratified to feel her jump slightly, and she kicked him in the ankle, frowning slightly without looking at him. He chuckled softly and removed his hand, returning to his lunch. He noticed Eddie glancing at him with an amused smile on his face, and he ducked his head and pretended to fix the napkin on his lap to hide his grin. When he managed to lose the grin, he raised his head and started to eat, but felt someone watching him. He had thought that Ed was the only one who had noticed anything, but he searched the table until his eyes rested on John. Lynn's son was looking at Greg, and when their eyes met, John's eyebrows rose in a silent question. Greg's only response was a slight nod, as if were only acknowledging John's presence, but he felt dread pool in his stomach, and he realized that he had been a fool. With Lynn's family around, he shouldn't have treated Lynn as anything but a recent acquaintance. It was obvious that at least her oldest son had seen his actions, and now Greg feared the consequences. He returned his attention to his plate and tried to calm his turbulent emotions.

The discussions resumed as people finished up, and this time, Greg participated in the conversation around him, pointedly ignoring John. They talked about their families, hometowns, and general things about their lives, most of which Greg and Lynn already knew, having had the same discussion together. They both managed to act as if this was all new information, though, and James, at least, did not seem to suspect anything.

Lunch was concluded, and everyone began to leave, one family at a time, until the only ones left were Ed and his family, Lynn and her family, and Greg. As they prepared to leave, Greg touched Lynn on the arm. "Mrs. Mitchell," he said, "may I have a word with you?"

"Of course, Sergeant," she replied, and the two of them walked off a short distance so that they were out of earshot of the others.

Glancing at the group remaining at the table, Greg whispered, "Lynn, I think John suspects something. I am so sorry; I should have controlled myself better. The last thing I want is a confrontation with your children, either for you or me. So, I wanted to ask you, do you think I should talk to him? See what he's thinking?"

"No," Lynn said thoughtfully, "I'll take care of it. If we do make something of this, I would have to tell them sooner or later, and if it's sooner, well…" she left the thought unfinished.

"So, by 'make something of this,' are you saying you want to see me again?" He brought his gaze back to her, and smiled slightly when he saw the answer in her face.

"My children fly out tomorrow morning at nine o'clock. Can we meet afterwards?"

He held back the grin he wanted to show and simply nodded. "Your children fly out, not you? Does that mean you've decided to stay in Toronto longer? I would really like that," he said quietly.

"Yes, that is what that means," she responded, just as quietly.

"Why don't I pick you up at the airport, then? I will meet you outside of the terminal a little after nine."

Lynn allowed herself a small smile, and she replied, "That sounds wonderful, Greg. I will see you tomorrow, then."

Greg smiled back and the two of them walked back to the table.

"Well," Ed said, when they reached the group, "I guess it's time to get Izzy home for her nap."

Sophie nodded her agreement, and the Lane family left the restaurant after handshakes all around.

"It's time for me to get going, too," Greg said, looking around at Lynn's family.

"It was good to meet you, Sergeant." John held out his hand, and Greg shook it firmly, not surprised when John held on a little more tightly and a little longer than was strictly necessary.

"You as well, John," he replied, looking the other man in the eye. He saw neither anger nor animosity there, but he did see concern and unasked questions. He wished he could speak to him, but he would respect Lynn's decision on this.

"That goes for all of you," he continued, freeing his hand from John's. "While I am sorry for the circumstances, I am very glad to have met you." He shook everyone's hand, ending with Lynn. "I hope you all enjoy the rest of your stay here in Toronto and have a safe trip back home."

"Thank you, Greg, we will." John answered for them all, still watching him intently.

Greg gave everyone one last smile, and then he turned and walked toward the door, outwardly calm, but on an emotional roller coaster inside. John obviously suspected something was going on between him and Lynn, and he did not envy Lynn that conversation. He was concerned for her, for both of them, but at the same time, he felt like doing cartwheels over the fact that she was staying. He also knew that the hours before he saw her again were going to be some of the longest of his life.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Greg slept fitfully, nightmares plaguing his subconscious. When his alarm went off, he started up, momentarily confused concerning his whereabouts. As his mind cleared, the latest dream faded, and all that remained was a vague feeling of loss and pain. He didn't remember any details, but his sheets and blankets were twisted around his body, and he could feel that his pillow was damp with tears. As he got up to shower, his brow wrinkled with concern; he hadn't had nightmares in quite a while, and he knew that the ceremony and the aftermath had brought them on last night.

By the time he finished in the bathroom, however, all vestiges of the night were gone, replaced with a feeling of elation at the thought of seeing Lynn. He surprised himself by actually whistling while he made breakfast, and, if his leg had let him, he probably would have skipped down the hall. He knew that his friends would tease him to no end if they could see him, but he didn't care. He felt good, no, he felt great. A large part of the last eighteen months of his life had been full of pain, regret, guilt, anger, and hate, and even though those feelings were, for the most part, gone, they had only been replaced with resignation and acceptance. Now, however, Greg felt joy and peace and, if he was truly honest with himself, love. Sure, he loved Dean, and he loved his team; he always had, but that was different than the love of a woman.

That thought made him pause as he got ready to leave the apartment. Did he love Lynn? Could he love her already? It had only been three days, and people didn't really fall in love that fast, did they? If someone had asked him those very questions a month ago, he would have thought they were crazy; he had always thought that there was no such thing as love at first sight, but the feelings that raced through him at the thought of simply seeing Lynn's face said differently. He saw her every time he closed his eyes, and his body reacted to the mere thought of the feel of her lips on his, her hands caressing him. The scent of her shampoo was forever branded on his brain, and, even now, as he took a deep breath, he could smell the mint.

Greg slowly sat down on the couch as understanding hit him. He loved Lynn Mitchell. He felt his heart constrict as the thought came to him. He closed his eyes and imagined her before him. His palms itched, and his breath quickened as the desire to touch her, to kiss her, overwhelmed him. He was still there five minutes later, trying to sort out what was happening to him, when his phone rang.

He pulled it out of his pocket and saw that it was Ed. He sighed and answered it.

"Hey, buddy, what's up?"

"Hey, Greg, just calling to see how you're doing. I was on my way to the barn, and I wanted to make sure you're okay."

Greg chuckled, knowing that what Ed really wanted were dirty details. "Sorry to disappoint you, Ed, but I left right after you did, so there's nothing to tell."

"What?" Ed sounded surprised. "I am offended that you would think I was calling for any other reason than to check up on my best friend, to inquire about his well-being."

"Right," Greg retorted. "So, you're not calling to find out if anything happened between Lynn and me yesterday?"

"Of course not," Ed managed to sound insulted, "but, since you brought it up, anything to tell me?"

Greg laughed heartily. He appreciated the relationship he had with Ed more than anyone could ever understand. The two of them had been through a lot over the years, from the absolute best to the gut-wrenching worst, and they had remained closer than brothers. Greg had no brothers, but he felt that God had given him Eddie to fill that role.

"As I said before, I left right after you did. However…" he trailed off mysteriously.

"Yes? Continue," Ed pleaded.

"However, I am on my way to pick up Lynn right now, so I have to go." He really did. He had spent too long on the couch, and now he would have to hurry to get to the airport on time.

"Wait, picking her up? I thought you said she was flying home today."

"No, only her family is; Lynn decided to stay for a while longer." He grabbed his jacket and his keys and headed for his car. As he slipped into the driver's seat, he said, "Look, Ed, I'll fill you in later, but I really need to go." He never talked on the phone while driving. He'd seen the results of that too many times to risk it.

"All right, buddy," Ed said reluctantly, "but you better call me later."

"Count on it," Greg laughed and hung up.

He made it to the airport about 9:05, and Lynn was already standing on the sidewalk waiting for him. She smiled, walked up to the car as he stopped, and reached for the door handle.

"Stop!" she was surprised at Greg's sharp tone. She pulled her hand back as he got out of the car and walked around to open the door for her. His voice softened as he smiled and said, "Please, allow me."

Lynn said nothing as she sat down, but as soon as Greg returned to his seat and pulled into traffic, she looked at him and said, "Greg, you know I appreciate it, but you don't have to always open the door for me."

"I know that," he returned, glancing at her, "but I want to. It makes me feel good to be able to do things for you. It has been a very long time since there has been anyone in my life I wanted to be chivalrous for, so, please, humor me on this."

Lynn gave Greg a smile and reached over to place her hand on his arm, and he almost lost control of the car as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "All right, if you feel so strongly about it, I sure don't mind. I'm just not used to it, that's all. No one has opened my doors or held my chair since John died." She stopped suddenly, as if she had said something she shouldn't.

"What's wrong?" Greg asked, but then he knew. "Lynn," he said softly, "you don't have to be afraid to talk about John. I don't expect you to forget him or to ignore the life you had together."

"But, I don't want you to think that I'm not content to be with you, Greg, because I am. More than content, actually."

"I appreciate that, but I'm not that thin-skinned. John was a major part of your past, and I know that you will always love him. There is one thing that I ask, however," he said as they stopped at a red light.

"What's that?"

He took this opportunity to look directly at her and take her hands in his. "Please don't ever compare me with him. That's not fair to me or to you. I am not him, and there will be differences and similarities, both good and bad. While I am more than willing to listen to the memories of your life together and help you deal with them, if necessary, I cannot and will not try to live up to an expectation to be like him, or not, as the case may be."

Lynn sat silently for a moment, thinking about what he had just said, and then she nodded. "You're right. I'll do my best to remember that."

Greg smiled. "Thank you, Lynn." He leaned forward and placed a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. He only released her when the car behind him honked, indicating that the light had turned green.

She laughed as he raised a hand in apology to the driver and pulled away.

Greg had no set plans for this day, so he asked Lynn what she wanted to do. He was surprised when she asked if they could go to City Hall. He immediately agreed, though, and drove downtown. On the way, Lynn asked questions about the rescue efforts that had gone on the day the bomb destroyed the buildings. He answered as honestly as he could, although he hadn't been a part of them, so he didn't know all the details. She didn't ask anything about the people they couldn't save, and Greg was thankful for that. They pulled into the parking garage and walked up to the courtyard in front of the buildings.

Lynn's eyes were wide as she took in the beautiful surroundings. She had seen pictures of City Hall itself and had always marveled at the innovative design, but she had not realized that there was much more to the area than that. She listened intently as Greg pointed out Old City Hall, a gorgeous building located just to the east of them. He explained that it had been built in 1899, and had been the center of city government until 1965 when the current City Hall was opened. It had been scheduled for demolition, but a group of concerned citizens had banded together and managed to have it declared a National Historic Site.

They walked to the reflecting pool and spent some time just sitting on a bench, arms around each other, enjoying the weather and each other's company.

"So," Greg tried to keep his tone light, but the question he was about to ask was anything but, "did you talk to John?"

He felt Lynn stiffen and inhale sharply. She didn't look at him, but he could tell she wasn't pleased when she spoke through her teeth. "I don't want to talk about that right now. Later, okay?"

"All right," Greg said comfortingly, wondering what had happened to make Lynn react like that. It had obviously not been a pleasant conversation, and it worried Greg a little. He didn't say anything else, however, and Lynn relaxed again as they looked out over the pool.

After a while, Greg stood up, pulling Lynn with him. "Come on," he said, "I have something to show you."

They walked back toward City Hall, stopping in front of the saucer-shaped central building. To the right of the main doors was a statue. It was of a firefighter holding a tattered Canadian flag, head bowed, with tears running down his cheeks. At the base was a plaque which read, "In memory of the thirty-one victims of the City Hall bombings of February 9, 2012. May God give them rest."

Greg's arm was around Lynn's shoulder as they looked at the statue, and he said quietly, "There is one just like it at the Health and Welfare Office, and one at Brookfield University."

Suddenly, Lynn turned her face into his chest and began to cry. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her curls, pulling her in tightly. Tears leaked from his own eyes, but they were nothing compared to the sobs that shook Lynn's entire body. They stood there for a long time, Lynn clutching Greg as if he were a lifeline, and Greg gently caressing her, whispering soothing words into her ear.

After what seemed like forever, Lynn took a deep breath and pulled away. She lifted her face to Greg's and gave him a weak smile. She tried to speak, but her voice caught in her throat, and no sound came out. Greg gently laid a finger on her lips.

"Shh," he whispered, "It's okay. You don't have to say anything right now." He softly wiped the tears from Lynn's cheeks and then took her head in his hands. Slowly lowering his head, he placed his lips on her forehead almost reverently, and then he enfolded her in his arms again.

"Greg?" Lynn's voice was small and quiet, almost childlike, muffled against his jacket.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

The simple words tore at Greg's heart, and he crushed Lynn to him. He knew in that moment that he would do anything necessary to keep this woman with him. He would move mountains to keep her safe and make her happy. He raised one hand to cup the back of her head and gently pulled it back until he could capture her lips with his. He caressed her mouth, brushing across her with a gentleness that sent sparks shooting along every nerve. He continued this dance for a long moment and then leaned back, breathing heavily. Lynn's breath was shallow, and her eyes were closed. She had gripped the lapels of his jacket so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"Lynn…" he started, and she opened her eyes to look into his. He stopped suddenly. The words "I love you" had just been about to escape his lips, but he caught himself. This was neither the time nor the place to confess his feelings to her. She was still too emotional, and he didn't want to place her in a compromising situation, nor did he want her to think he was manipulating her. Instead, he looked around and chuckled softly. "People are starting to stare. Perhaps we should go somewhere else."

She turned to see that, while most people were completely ignoring them, a few people, mostly couples, were indeed watching them. She let out a small laugh.

"Perhaps you are right," she said, smiling, and she released his jacket, smoothing the wrinkles she had caused before slipping her hand into his. Greg let go of her hand immediately, however, and instead placed his arm around her, pulling her to him as they walked back to the car. Lynn rested her head on his shoulder, her arm around his waist, a contented sigh escaping her. She relaxed into him, and they were silent as they entered the garage. The silence continued until they were seated in the car and Greg was driving toward the exit.

"So," he said, breaking the quiet, "where would you like to go next?" He tried to sound cheerful, to counteract the seriousness of what had just happened, but he didn't succeed entirely. He could hear the sadness in his own voice, the forced cheerfulness, and he was sure Lynn could, too.

She turned to him, smiling sadly as if to confirm his thoughts, and said, "I don't care; you choose this time."

He looked at the clock and saw that it was only a little after ten thirty, so it was too early for lunch. He thought for a moment, and then an idea came to him. "Would you like to visit the SRU?" he asked hopefully.

He was rewarded with a bright smile. "That would be wonderful," Lynn said. "Will your team be there?"

"I don't know," he replied. "I know some of them are on duty today, but they may be out on a call. Either way, I can at least show you around."

They talked as he drove, Lynn asking questions about the SRU and police work in general. Greg happily answered her questions, his job one of the things he was most proud of. They were so engrossed in their conversation that the trip to SRU headquarters seemed to take no time at all.

Greg helped Lynn out of the car, and they walked toward the building. Even though he had been gone a while, officers still stopped him in the parking lot to say hello and shake his hand. Every time he returned here, he was reminded of the fact that the younger officers, and many of the older ones, also saw him as their hero. Shortly after the bombings, one young man had told him that Greg was everything that he wanted to be. Greg tried to politely squash this admiration when it came up; he had no desire to be put on a pedestal. He knew all too well how easy it was for men to fall from that height and the damage that was done, to themselves and the ones who put them there, when they did. He returned the handshakes and greetings, though, and he and Lynn eventually made it to the building. Once inside, they made their way to the front desk. Winnie was seated behind it, looking down at something on her desk, and her head popped up when Greg rapped his knuckles on the desk.

"Sarge!" she exclaimed, coming around the desk to give him a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to give Lynn the tour," he said, returning the hug. Releasing Winnie, he reached behind him and pulled Lynn forward, resting his hand on the small of her back. "Winnie, you remember Mrs. Mitchell from yesterday, don't you?"

"Of course! Mrs. Mitchell, nice to see you again." Winnie shook Lynn's hand while sneaking an inquiring glance at Greg. Greg shook his head just enough for Winnie to see.

"Please, call me Lynn."

"All right, Lynn." Winnie dropped her hand and turned to Greg. "Ed is out on the obstacle course."

Greg grinned. "Fantastic! Thanks!" He took Lynn's hand and guided her down the hallway.

"You seem happy," Lynn commented, excited to see Greg in his element.

"I am. You get to see how Team Sergeants torment their team members," he laughed. Lynn smiled at his enthusiasm and followed him outside to the course.

Once there, Greg walked up behind Ed, who was standing at the finish line of the obstacle course, clipboard and stopwatch in hand. Ed turned at the footsteps behind him, his face breaking into a smile when he saw Greg and Lynn.

"Hey!" he cried, slapping Greg on the back. "To what do we owe this honor?"

Before Greg could answer, Ed looked at Lynn and stuck out his hand. "Mrs. Mitchell, nice to see you."

"Lynn, please," she answered, shaking his hand.

Ed just nodded and turned back to Greg. "So, why are you here?"

"I thought I'd show Lynn just what life in the SRU is like. Well, at least the part here at the barn. Do you mind if we watch?"

"Of course not. As a matter of fact, we're just getting started, and we got a new member." Ed pointed at a young man who was just about to start the course. "Let me know what you think."

"Sure," Greg replied. He watched the constable, dressed in full gear, as he maneuvered the obstacles. There seemed to be no problems as the young man climbed the walls, crawled under the wire, and ran over the balance beam. He grabbed Ed's hand and looked at the stopwatch as the officer crossed the finish line and stood, arms on his head, catching his breath.

"Impressive," he said, nodding his approval. "How about other areas?"

Ed didn't answer until the next officer, who happened to be Spike, started the course, and then he turned to Greg. "Top scores in marksmanship and tactics, and he's not too bad with the negotiating. He's got a long way to go with that, but they all do at first. Remember Sam?"

Greg laughed heartily at the memory, and at Lynn's quizzical look, he explained.

"Shortly after Sam joined the team, we were doing a negotiation drill. Sam was the negotiator, Ed and Lou were suspects who had taken Spike and Jules hostage at gunpoint, and Wordy and I were observing. Sam was doing his best to talk them down, but Lou was having none of that. When he told Sam that the situation would be over if he got some cocaine, Sam froze. Spike and Jules started calling for help, while Ed and Lou started yelling that they would shoot. Sam got completely flustered and frustrated and when Lou said, 'Dude, you know what I want!' Sam responded by yelling, 'I'm not giving you cocaine, jackass!' Ed promptly 'shot' the hostages, while Spike looked at Jules and asked, 'Jackass? Did he say jackass?'" Greg chuckled at the memory, as did Ed.

Lynn laughed, seeing the humor in the situation, and said, "I hope Sam got better before he actually had to negotiate with someone."

"Oh, he did," Greg responded. "It took a while, but he did. He came from a military background; you know, shoot first, ask questions later. Now he's Team Leader of Team Three and one of the best negotiators we have."

Ed nodded his agreement and then nudged Greg, motioning to the course. Spike had finished and was walking over to them, a big grin on his face.

"Boss!" Even though Ed was now Team Sergeant, he was Sarge. In Spike's mind, Greg would be the only Boss he'd ever have. "What are you doing here?"

"Just visiting, Spike," shaking his hand warmly and laying his hand on Spike's shoulder. "Lynn, you remember Spike, right?"

"Of course," she said, also shaking his hand, unable to resist a smile at the grin that was still stretching his face.

"Pleased to see you again, Lynn," Spike said, returning the handshake. "So, Boss, guess what?" He rubbed his hands together like a little boy about to get a Christmas present, the grin growing even wider.

"What, Spike?"

"Babycakes got an upgrade! She is absolutely spectacular now! Not that she wasn't before, but now, wow!"

Greg laughed. "I'd like to see that sometime, Spike, but not today. We're not staying that long."

"Oh, too bad." Spike's face fell a little.

"Babycakes?" Lynn asked.

Spike's grin immediately returned to its former glory. He loved nothing better than to talk about his Babycakes. "She is a Remotec ANDROS F6B anti-explosive robot, and she is the most gorgeous creature in the whole world, well, next to Winnie, of course." He continued to explain the robot to Lynn until Greg stepped in.

"Okay, Spike, okay. You'll overload her brain with all that information."

Spike stopped and nodded, but then he spoke up again. "That reminds me, Lynn, I wanted to tell you that I was very impressed with your son, William. He's got a good head on his shoulders. His appreciation of Java programming and engineering is extraordinary for someone his age."

"Thank you, Spike, I really appreciate that." Pride was evident in Lynn's voice as she spoke of her son. "William was always the brightest in the family. I knew from a very early age that he would end up doing something remarkable with his life."

"He seems well on his way," Spike replied, and gave her a smile as he turned back to Greg. "So, how long are you staying?"

"Just long enough for that officer to complete the course," Greg said, nodded at the woman who was finishing up. "Jules would never forgive me if I left without saying hi to her, too."

Just as he said that, Jules came over, and gave Greg a big hug. "Good to see you, Sarge. I didn't know you were coming by."

"Neither did I, Jules. It was a spur of the moment thing."

"Well, it's great to see you."

The three friends spoke for a little longer as the remaining two members of Team One completed the course, Lynn just listening in, and when the last member finished, Greg turned to Ed.

"Well, we should be going," he said regretfully. Standing there, watching the officers complete the course, talking shop with his friends, he felt the desire to be among them constrict his heart, and it clearly showed in his eyes. Lynn seemed to notice this, and she reached over to give his hand a squeeze.

He gave her a grateful smile as Spike said, "Yeah, we've got to head into the gym, now. I don't think Lynn wants to watch a bunch of guys get all sweaty and smelly."

"Hey!" Jules slapped him on the arm.

"Well, it's even less attractive for her to see a woman get all sweaty and smelly!" Spike laughed and ducked behind Ed as Jules began to rain blows on him.

Greg and Lynn laughed with him, and then said their goodbyes. They could still hear Spike's laughter and Jules' indignant comments as they walked back into the SRU building. Greg showed Lynn the rest of the building, explaining what the different areas were used for, and then, after saying goodbye to Winnie, they returned to his car.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Lynn placed her hand on Greg's arm and smiled at him. "Thank you, Greg, I learned a lot about you today."

"Me?" he questioned. They hadn't talked about him at all.

"Yes, you," she replied. "I can see that your friends love you and respect your opinions. I saw the admiration that the other officers have for you. That says a lot about you."

Greg could feel his face flush at her words. "Thank you, Lynn," he said softly, "that means a lot coming from you."

They sat in silence for a few blocks, and then Lynn spoke again. "Well, I'm hungry. What should we do for lunch?"

"Oh," Greg said, "I have an idea, but I'll be okay if you don't want to do it."

"What is it?"

Greg took a deep breath before he continued. "I would like to cook something for you at my apartment." He held his breath as he waited for her answer.

"You cook?" she said incredulously.

He released the breath with a huff. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "I didn't mean it that way; let me try again." She cleared her throat and put on a deliberately happy face. She pitched her voice high and said, "You cook? That's fabulous!"

Greg burst out laughing, and Lynn joined him. After they calmed down a little, Lynn said, "Seriously, though, Greg, I would love for you to make me lunch. It's a great idea."

"Fabulous!" he mimicked her in a falsetto voice, and they cracked up again as he turned toward his home.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Lynn was standing on Greg's balcony, waiting for lunch to be ready. They had arrived at his apartment, and Greg had promptly ensconced her on the sofa with the remote, a Sprite, and strict instructions to stay out of the kitchen. He told her to make herself at home otherwise, but that the kitchen was off limits. So, she put the remote on the coffee table and had wandered around the living room, sipping her soda and trying to get to know something about Greg through his things.

His apartment was very neat; nothing was out of place. It had a manly décor, all earth tones and wood, and it was comfortable. There were a few paintings on the walls, but they were very generic, not personal.

She did discover that he had an eclectic taste in music. He owned everything from Mozart to Brian Adams to John Denver. She looked through his collection for a moment and chose a Coldplay CD and slipped it into the player. As the music began, she set her Sprite down on the coffee table and looked down the hallway.

It was a two-bedroom apartment, and the doors to both bedrooms were closed. She didn't feel comfortable going in either one. Greg had told her that Dean stayed over when he wasn't at the college, and she didn't want to invade the privacy of either of them. At the end of the hallway, between the bedrooms was the bathroom. She also felt it was invasive to inspect someone's bathroom, and there were only two other rooms in the apartment, the dining room and the kitchen. Since she could see into the kitchen from the dining room, and Greg had specifically forbidden her to watch him, she stayed out and instead walked to the sliding doors off of the living room. They led out onto a balcony, Greg's apartment being on the third floor. She walked outside and rested her arms on the railing, looking out over the courtyard of the complex. As she stood there, a couple walked along the path below her, and the sight made her think about Greg and her and the conversation she had had with her son the night before.

* * *

John had not said a word about Greg the entire trip back to the hotel, and as soon as they arrived, her family had gone to her room. Nobody felt like doing anything, so they all just lounged around, not talking, flipping through television channels but not really interested in actually watching anything. The events of the day had been exhausting, and one could have attributed the silence to that, but Lynn thought of the story about the elephant in the room that no one wanted to acknowledge. She knew that they should talk, and so she said, "I think that was a beautiful ceremony."

It was as if a dam had broken, and everyone started talking at once. They talked about the ceremony and memorial, and about lunch and the people they had spent it with. Lynn's children all agreed that Greg and his family and friends were all very nice people, and they were glad to have been able to spend time with them, but when Greg's name was mentioned, Lynn couldn't help but notice that John's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, and his lips pressed together.

They also talked about John, Sr. They told "remember when" stories, and laughed when they recalled some humorous memory and cried when the memory was sad. After the bombings, they had never sat down as a family and done this. They talked about him in pairs or threes, but never with the whole family together. It was cathartic being able to reminisce about the man they had all loved. The discussion continued on into the evening, and May suggested ordering pizza.

They stayed in Lynn's room until about ten o'clock when John reminded them that they had to be at the airport early the next day. After helping clean up dinner, they all said goodnight to Lynn and left for their separate rooms. She had barely shut the door and kicked off her shoes, however, when there was a knock. She opened the door and saw John standing there, arms crossed over his chest.

"May I come back in?" he asked tersely.

"Of course." She moved aside, and he walked past her to sit on the same chair Greg had occupied on Saturday. She took the other chair and waited for him to speak.

After a pause, John blurted out, "Mom, is something going on between you and Sergeant Parker?"

His abruptness shocked her momentarily, and she didn't say anything right away. She sat there, trying to think of how to approach this. John had obviously seen some of the interactions that had gone on between Greg and her, whether that was the looks they couldn't help but give each other, or the involuntary reaction she had when Greg placed his hand on her leg under the table. She decided that simple honesty was best, so she took a deep breath and said, "Yes, there is."

She was expecting disbelief, concern, confusion, or even tears, but she was not ready for the anger that abruptly darkened her son's eyes. He bolted from the chair and yelled, "Are you insane? What could you possibly be thinking?"

Lynn sat there, staring at her son for a moment, mouth open, before she found her voice. "Wait, John, slow down." She reached her hand out and tried to take his arm.

"No, I won't slow down!" He jerked away from her and stormed toward the door before rounding on her again. "Have you no respect for Dad's memory?"

So that's what this was about. She could understand where John was coming from, but the insinuation that she was disrespecting her husband made her furious. Coupling the accusation with the tumultuous emotions raging through her, Lynn could not control herself. She slowly stood up to face her son.

"How dare you? I loved your father more than you will ever know, and I was devastated when he died. You more than anyone should know that. Remember when you had to drag me out of bed and force me to take care of myself and the house because I couldn't manage to find the will to do anything? Remember how I didn't leave the house for weeks? Remember how I cried myself to sleep for months? Remember?" Her voice had risen to a shout, and she could feel the tears falling down her face, but she couldn't find it in herself to stop. She had walked slowly toward John as she spoke, and the last word was punctuated by a finger jabbing into his chest.

"It has been eighteen months since I lost my best friend and husband. Eighteen months of remembering every day and every night that I will never again see the only man I have ever loved. Eighteen months with no one to come home to at night. Eighteen months with no one to talk to. Eighteen months with no one to touch or hold or simply be with. Eighteen months of knowing that I am alone." Every "eighteen" was accompanied by another jab. "Now I find a man who understands what I have gone through, what I am still going through. He is kind and sweet and funny and courteous, and I like him, and instead of feeling happy for me, you accuse me of betraying your father. How dare you judge me? You have no idea what it has been like for me."

She saw John's anger drain away as she ranted, and suddenly she couldn't face him anymore. Her own anger disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and now she just felt so incredibly tired. She turned away from him and wrapped her arms around herself, desperately wishing they were Greg's arms instead. Her head was bowed, and tears fell at her feet. She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to rid herself of the images that had suddenly flooded her mind – the television images of the bombed-out City Hall, the policemen at her door late at night three days after the bombing, the closed casket because her husband's body was too battered and burnt to make a viewing possible, the empty bed that had held her love for so long, and the people, oh, all the people, well-meaning but ultimately failing to understand her grief, her anger, or her loss.

She stood there for what seemed like forever when she felt John's hands on her shoulders. She refused to turn around, though, even when he whispered, "I'm sorry, Mom, so sorry. I never realized…"

She stood, silent and unmoving, until she heard him sigh, felt his hands leave her, and heard the sound of the door closing behind him. At that point, she crumbled to the floor, head pillowed on her arms, and cried until she fell asleep.

If any of her children had tried to get ahold of her before morning, she knew nothing of it. She woke on the floor a few hours after collapsing, stiff and sore from the unnatural position. She managed to pull herself up and climb into bed, fully clothed, where she immediately fell asleep again.

The next day, Lynn woke to the alarm clock blaring. It took her a few moments to remember where she was, and when she did, the tears threatened to start again. She didn't remember specifics, but she was sure she had had nightmares. That hadn't happened for quite a while, but she wasn't surprised considering the memories that had rushed back to her and the fight with her son.

She grudgingly climbed out of bed and into the shower. She had already decided on Sunday that she was going to stay in Toronto longer, but she had not made that decision known to her family or to Greg. Her plan had been to simply tell her family that she wanted a little more time, maybe learn a little more about where her husband and their father had died, and that was true, but now that John knew about Greg, she was going to have to explain to them all how he fit into the picture. After John's reaction the night before, she was not looking forward to that at all.

She was putting on her shoes, getting ready to go to breakfast when there was a knock on the door. She heaved a sigh and went to open it.

John stood there, hands clasped behind him, looking like he had just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Lynn said nothing, but left the door standing open and went to sit on the bed. She looked up just as John stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He wrung his hands together for a moment, looking at his feet, and then he raised his head to look at her.

"Mom," he began, and then had to clear his throat as the word stuck there. "I just wanted to apologize for last night. I thought about it a lot, and I realized that I had no right to judge you the way I did. You were right; I don't know what you went through. All I could think about was the fact that I had just been reminded of the worst day of my life, and it seemed to me as if it didn't even matter to you, that you had forgotten Dad and hooked up with the first guy you met here. It didn't help any that that guy was involved in Dad's death. Well, not involved, but you know what I mean. But last night, I thought about the fact that I have Amanda to turn to when it gets bad, May has Ramon, and the others have you, but you have no one. Not really. You haven't had anyone since Dad died. We lost a father, but you lost a husband, and I never thought about how that was different, until I imagined how I would feel if Amanda died. I never understood how lonely you must be, but now I think I do, at least a little." He sat down on the bed next to her and gathered her in his arms. "I am so sorry for not paying attention to how much pain you've been in, and I want you to know that I will respect your decisions where Greg is concerned."

Lynn hugged him back and then pulled away to look at him. "Thank you, John; that means a lot to me. Will you do me one favor?"

"Of course, what is it?"

"Don't tell anyone else about Greg and me." She stopped suddenly and grabbed his hands, her eyes wide. "You haven't said anything, have you?"

He smiled and squeezed her hands. "No, I haven't even told Amanda. All the same, I think May suspects something, and James might, too. I don't think William and Rose do, though; he was completely involved in his geeky conversation yesterday, and I don't think Rose's attention left those little girls, or the boys, for that matter, once. If you don't want me to say anything, I won't."

She let out the breath she was holding and smiled. "Good. I don't know what is going to happen between Greg and me, and I don't want to have to explain what may not be anything. The only reason I told you is because you brought it up. That said, I want you to know that I am going to stay in Toronto for a little longer. I think Greg and I owe it to ourselves to see where this is going."

She could tell that John was not exactly happy with this news, but he simply nodded. "What will you tell the others about why you are staying?"

"I'll just say that I want to spend more time where your father died, which is completely true, John. I need to see if I am ready to let him go or not, and if Greg can help with that decision, then so be it."

"All right," John sighed, and he stood up. "Well, we'd better get going if we're going to get breakfast before we have to leave."

As they walked to the door, Lynn reached over and hugged her son. "I love you, John."

"I love you, too, Mom."

The rest of the morning went smoothly, and she saw her children off on their flight without any further confrontations. Amid tears and hugs, they said their goodbyes, and Lynn promised to let them know as soon as she decided when she was coming back.

* * *

Her mind came back to the present, but she still stood on the balcony, watching the people below. Her husband had been the only man in her life, ever. Sure, she had had boyfriends in high school, but they never lasted more than a few months. When she met John, though, she knew something was different. They hit it off immediately, even with the age difference, and there had been no one else since then. But, even though she had loved him with everything she was, and she knew he loved her, she had never felt the things she did when she was around Greg. Greg had told her not to compare the two of them, but she couldn't help it when those feelings were so immensely different from anything she had ever known.

When Greg touched her, she felt the shock from head to toe; his hands left trails of fire wherever they went. Just thinking about his lips on hers had a wave of heat flowing through her, and her eyes closed involuntarily. Her hands gripped the railing as she tried to compose herself, but it wasn't happening. She couldn't get the image of his gorgeous brown eyes or the memory of his kisses and caresses out of her head.

When Greg had asked to sit next to her at O'Malley's, she had been pleasantly surprised but wasn't really expecting anything more than a soda or two and some conversation. When he had guided her to the table with his hand on her back, though, she had caught her breath and held it until he released her to sit down. She didn't think he had noticed, but from that moment, every touch, every look, and especially every kiss had branded itself in her memory, and she knew that she would do anything to experience more of them.

She was a little afraid of what she was feeling; it was all so new. The fact that she hadn't been with anyone but John for over twenty-five years didn't help, either. She suddenly realized that she had no idea what she was doing. She hadn't dated since high school, and she certainly had no desire to repeat some of those encounters.

She was trying to figure out what she was going to do when she felt Greg's arms encircle her from behind, felt his breath on her cheek, and all rational thought fled.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he whispered, pulling her to him.

Instantly, desire flooded her, and she placed her hands on his and leaned back into him. "I was thinking about you," she said quietly.

"Really?" She could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm honored. What exactly were you thinking about me?"

She turned in his arms and saw the smile on his face. "I was thinking that I really wanted you out here with me, and look, here you are."

"Great minds think alike, they say," he said lightly, but he pulled her closer, trapping her arms against his chest, and his eyes strayed to her mouth. Without warning, he lowered his head and kissed her. It started off gentle but quickly grew more passionate. Lynn's mouth opened eagerly to Greg's probing tongue, and the two drank from each other as if they had just crossed a desert with no water. Greg's hands began to roam over Lynn's back and arms, and she moaned. This only inflamed him more, and the kiss deepened. Greg pressed her up against the balcony railing, and his mouth left hers to trace a path across her jawbone and up to her ear. She felt herself go weak when he nibbled on her earlobe, but his arms kept her upright.

Greg stopped his exploration with his mouth still at Lynn's ear, and he whispered raggedly, "God, I missed you so much." He gently traced her ear with his tongue, sending a shiver through her entire body. He felt it and smiled to himself, thrilled that he could produce such a reaction.

He continued discovering her with his tongue as he licked down her neck to her collarbone. He gently pulled the collar of her shirt aside, giving him greater access to her smooth skin. As he kissed and suckled the tender area, Lynn freed her arms from his chest and wrapped them around him. What started as gentle caresses on his back soon turned into desperate grabbing as her arousal grew.

"Greg." She couldn't manage anything but his name, but that simple utterance almost pushed him over the edge. He groaned and spun them around. He walked Lynn backwards, still applying lips to her neck, until they were back through the sliding glass doors.

The smells that met them snapped them back to reality, and they both stood up straight, arms still around each other and breathing heavily.

"Right," he said, regretfully, "lunch. That's what I came out to tell you – lunch is ready," even as his stomach growled to add weight to his words.

He still knew that he could easily skip lunch and continue where they stopped, no matter what his stomach said, but he also wanted to make sure Lynn was comfortable every step of the way. He tried to slow his breathing as he looked at her questioningly, and was genuinely disappointed when she said apologetically, "I _am_ hungry, Greg."

"So am I," he admitted sullenly. _But not only for_ _food_, he added to himself. It amazed him how this woman could make him feel like a child: when he couldn't do or have what he wanted with her, he felt like pouting until he got his way, and when she smiled at him, he felt like laughing for joy and doing cartwheels down the street. When she touched or kissed him, however, the feelings were as adult as possible; then he wanted to carry her to the nearest convenient location and make her his in every way.

He didn't want to release her, but he moved until he only had one hand on her back. Staying like this, he guided her into the dining room and helped her into a chair. Then he excused himself and went back into the living room. He quickly picked out a Michael Bublé CD and put it in the player. Then he walked to the kitchen, smiling at Lynn as he passed.

He came back out shortly with a pitcher and two glasses. He placed them down on the table, held up one finger to tell Lynn to wait, and then returned to the kitchen. When he came out a second time, he had a platter in one hand and a salad bowl in the other. Placing these on the table, as well, he took a chair next to Lynn.

Lynn inhaled appreciatively and smiled. "Wow, Greg, that smells amazing! What is it?"

"It is baked chicken with Monterey Jack cheese and chipotle salsa," he responded as he spooned some onto Lynn's plate. "I hope you don't mind a little bit of spice."

"No, that's just fine," she answered, waiting for him to serve himself before reaching for the salad bowl and putting some on her plate next to the chicken. As she did that, Greg took one glass, filled it with lemonade from the pitcher and placed it in front of her. Then he filled his own glass and served himself some salad. as well.

He watched, somewhat nervously, as Lynn took a bite of the chicken.

"Mmmm," she hummed, "Greg, this is absolutely amazing!"

"I am so glad you like it," he responded. He smiled and settled more comfortably in his chair; he hadn't realized how tense he was, just waiting for her reaction. He considered himself a good cook, but he truly treasured her opinion and was happy to hear her appreciation.

As they ate, their conversation remained light. After they were finished, Lynn helped Greg clear the table, and, as he put the leftovers in containers for the refrigerator, she rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. Greg couldn't help but think how wonderfully domestic this scene was. It had been a very long time since there was someone in his life who could share this type of simplicity with him, and it felt great.

When the kitchen was clean, Greg led Lynn back to the living room. They sat down on the couch, Greg in the corner with Lynn relaxing against his chest, her knees curled up beside her. He placed his arm around her, closed his eyes, and reveled in the feel of her against him. He was content to stay that way forever, but then Lynn spoke.

"Greg?"

"Mm hmm?" he responded without moving.

"I want to tell you what happened between John and me last night." She had not moved, but Greg could feel her tense up. He could tell from her body language that this wasn't going to be pleasant, and he silently cursed the fact that this conversation had to happen, but he let none of it show as Lynn slowly sat up. She pulled her knees under her until she was kneeling on the couch, facing Greg. She took his hands in hers and stared at them as she recounted what had happened the night before. Greg watched her closely as he listened, his anger flaring when she got to the point where John had accused her of betraying her husband's memory. He knew that if John were standing there right then, he would have laid him out flat for causing Lynn that kind of pain. He gently squeezed Lynn's hands as he heard the pain and anger in her voice, but he made no move toward her. He knew that she had to finish.

She did, ending with the tearful leaving at the airport, and then she took a deep breath and raised her head. Greg could see tears glistening in her eyes, but they didn't fall. He watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She held it for a moment and then slowly released it, opening her eyes as she did.

"Greg?" she said softly. "Do you think I am betraying John?"

He saw the concern in her eyes and heard it in her voice, and he wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms, tell her that of course she wasn't, and kiss away all of her worries. He knew that wasn't what she needed, though, and he thought about what to say before he answered carefully, "It doesn't matter what I think, Lynn. What do you think? Do you feel like you are betraying him?"

She cocked her head to one side and looked deeply into his eyes. She didn't speak for several moments, and when the words came, they were steady and confident. "No," she said simply, "I don't. As I said before, John would have wanted me to find someone. It has been a year and a half, and I am tired of being alone. There is nothing wrong with what we are doing or what I am feeling." Greg could tell that she was talking more to herself than she was to him, and he stayed silent. This was validated when Lynn gave a short, decisive nod. Then she sighed and lay back down against him. "No," she whispered, "this is right."

Greg's heart thrilled within him when he heard those words, and he kissed the top of her head and slowly began to rub his hand up and down her arm. Neither of them spoke, and soon, Greg felt Lynn relax further and heard her breathing slow until he knew she had fallen asleep. He sat for a while, just enjoying the feel of her sleeping in his arms, and then his head slowly fell back against the couch, and he, too, drifted off.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Hours later, the sensation of Lynn leaving the couch woke Greg up. He grunted and rubbed his eyes, missing the weight of her against him. He looked around to see where she had gone. He saw the light in the kitchen go on, and he slowly stood up, trying to stretch the kinks out of his neck and back. Failing that, he walked stiffly to the kitchen door, leaned up against the door frame, and stood there silently, arms crossed over his chest. Lynn was standing with her back to him, looking through his refrigerator. He admired her as she pulled the pitcher of lemonade out and turned to get a glass out of the cupboard.

Even though she was forty-five years old and had five children, she obviously took care of herself. Greg had seen too many women who let themselves go after their first child, never mind their fifth, but Lynn had the body of a woman who worked out regularly. Her stomach and legs were toned, and Greg could see that even through the khakis she had chosen to wear today.

He was staring at the part of her body that filled those khakis to perfection when she turned around. She had obviously not realized he was there because she jumped so badly she almost dropped the glass. As it was, she splashed lemonade all over her hand.

"Greg!" she exclaimed as she reached for a towel. "You scared the crap out of me!"

If any other woman had caught him staring at her butt, he would have stammered out an apology and quickly removed himself from her presence, but with Lynn he only grinned.

"Just admiring the view," he quipped.

She glared at him, but he could see her lips twitch with the effort of not returning his grin. He chuckled and walked over to her, taking her by the waist and laying a quick kiss on her lips.

"I hope you don't mind me invading your kitchen," she said.

"Of course not. I told you to make yourself at home." He pulled back a little and looked at her firmly. "Just not when I'm cooking. I can't abide anyone in my kitchen when I'm working."

"Yeah, I got that message. Why is that?"

"I honestly don't know. I once chased Ed out of here because he came in to get a drink while I was making dinner. He thought I had gone insane."

Lynn laughed and said, "Well, I promise I'll stay out. Especially if all of your kitchen excursions end with a meal as delicious as lunch was."

"Speaking of kitchens and meals, are you hungry?" He looked at the clock on the microwave and saw that it was almost six o'clock. They had been asleep for over five hours. No wonder he was so stiff.

"No," she responded, "not really."

"How about a snack, then? I can throw something together."

"That would be fine; something light, though." She gave him a small smile. "Do I have to leave?"

It felt good to joke with her, and he chuckled. "No, that rule only applies to actual cooking. I'll just grab a few things."

"Good. Let me know if I can help."

"Actually, you can. I'd like a Coke, if you don't mind. And while you're in the fridge, can you grab the grapes?"

"Your wish is my command," she teased and turned to do as he asked. By the time she stood up, Greg had already gotten a plate out and was cutting up a cheese he had gotten out of his pantry into small wedges. She put the bowl of grapes on the counter along with his soda and watched him, leaning her elbows on the counter. "Isn't cheese supposed to be refrigerated?"

"Not this kind. This is Appenzeller; it comes from Switzerland, and it is best served at room temperature." He arranged the wedges on the plate in a circle and added grapes to the center. Lynn put the remaining grapes back in the fridge, and Greg returned the cheese to the pantry. He then picked up the plate and a few napkins from a holder on the counter, and Lynn grabbed his soda and her glass.

The two returned to the living room and set everything on the coffee table. As they sat on the couch, Greg asked, "Do you want to watch some TV?"

"Sure," Lynn replied. "What do you like?"

"Comedy is my favorite. Having been a police officer for so long, my life has enough real drama that I don't really like watching it on television. Even at the college, while I'm not directly involved in the drama anymore, I am teaching about it all the time. What about you?"

"I'm not picky; you choose."

"All right." Greg picked up the remote and turned the TV on. The channel was already set to _The Comedy Network_, so he set the remote back on the table and sat back against the couch. Currently on was _Comedy Now!_, a show that featured various stand-up comedians.

Lynn and Greg spent the next hour laughing at the jokes and antics of the performers. They picked at the cheese and grapes and sat cuddled together on the couch. When the show was finished, Lynn turned to Greg.

"Greg?"

"Yes?"

"Where did you learn your way around a kitchen so well?" she asked lightly.

Lynn couldn't know how that simple question affected Greg. It seemed to be perfectly innocent, but it wasn't. The answer was tied up in the darkest days of the last eighteen months.

"Ah," he said, growing serious, "that would be therapy."

"Really?" she asked, not expecting that answer at all.

He nodded, took a deep breath, and turned off the television, sitting up on the edge of the couch. He knew he would have to tell Lynn about this part of his life sometime, but he didn't think it would be this soon. As much as he dreaded talking about it, however, he felt as if he could tell her anything, at any time, and she would understand. He desperately hoped so, anyway. If she didn't, he knew that he would lose her, and he also knew that he would not survive if that happened. He stared into her eyes as he continued. "After I was injured, I was very depressed. I hated myself and everything about my life. I did my best to push everyone I loved and who loved me out of my life. I wanted to be alone, but most of my friends and family pushed right back and refused to let me go." He stopped and tried to decide whether or not to tell Lynn about Marina. He could shorten the story, skip right to the therapy. If he told her the truth, would she be so disgusted with him that she would leave? Or, even worse, would she be scared of him? He didn't have to think long, though. He knew Lynn deserved the entire truth, no matter the consequences.

"I had been dating a woman for a while when I got shot. We were very serious, to the point that I was planning on asking her to marry me. We lived together here, and I loved her very much, but that was not enough to save us or me. I hated myself and my situation more than I loved her. After about a year of me treating her absolutely horribly, she was still determined to make it work, but…"

Greg stopped and closed his eyes. He sat perfectly still until he felt Lynn's hands cover his own, which were clasped tightly on his knees.

"Greg," she said softly, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"Yes, I do," he murmured. "I don't want to, but I have to tell you."

When he opened his eyes, and Lynn saw the anguish in them, she reached one hand up and cupped his cheek. She nodded her head, and Greg took a deep breath before continuing. He remained focused on her eyes, drawing strength from the concern and compassion he saw there.

"I told you last week that I am a recovering alcoholic, but what I didn't tell you was that one night, about six months ago, I decided to knowingly and gladly relapse. I was in so much pain and despair, I just wanted to drink myself into oblivion and forget, even if it was just for one night. The logical part of my brain knew that it was a mistake and that it would end up being way more than one night, but the other, irrational part couldn't have cared less. That part won."

He stopped and took another deep breath, and searched Lynn's face for any sign of disgust or pity. Disgust he could handle, but he could not stand pity. He saw neither of them, however, and that gave him the courage he needed to tell Lynn the rest – the part he was afraid would drive her away from him forever.

"That night I came home with a bottle of whiskey, and Marina called me on it. She knew my past and what even one sip could do to me. What she didn't realize was how desperate I was or how far I would go to get my way on this. To be perfectly honest, I didn't, either."

Greg pulled his hands from hers and stood up. He couldn't face Lynn with his next confession, so he walked over to the sliding glass door and looked out, hands clasped behind his back. He spoke softly, but Lynn could still hear him.

"She tried to take the bottle from me, and it slipped and broke on the floor. Something snapped inside of me, and I lost it. In my mind, the breaking of that bottle symbolized everything that had been taken from me, and Marina was to blame. Ever since the bombings, I felt like all my choices had been ripped away from me. I didn't choose to retire from the SRU; I was forced to. I didn't choose to be in constant pain; Marcus Faber chose that for me. I didn't choose to have my life completely turned upside down; he chose that, too. When the bottle broke, Marina was suddenly the cause of everything that had happened to me. I completely lost control." He stopped again and closed his eyes. "I attacked her. She left me that day for good."

He couldn't go on. He was terrified that he had just driven Lynn away just as he had Marina, and the thought caused him so much pain that he just placed his hands on the door and pressed his head against the glass, feeling the coolness contrast with the heat of his skin. He stood there silently, dreading the words he so desperately did not want to hear – the words that would tell him that he had lost Lynn, too.

Instead, he heard her softly say, "Did you hurt her? Physically, I mean."

He cringed and muttered, "Does it matter?"

There was silence for a moment, and then Lynn responded, "Yes, it does to me."

"Fine," he breathed, still not looking at her. "Yes, I hurt her. Not badly, but I hurt her, nonetheless."

Tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes, and he just stood there, waiting for the sounds of fear or anger or revulsion, or the sound of the door slamming as she left him, never to return. He deserved it all for what he had done to Marina, and so he was shocked to his core when the only sound he heard was Lynn's footsteps approaching him from behind. He felt her arms encircle his body, her hands coming to rest on his chest. When she laid her head on his back, he couldn't breathe. She didn't say anything but just held him. Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore.

He reached down and pulled her arms from him. He slowly turned around and pushed Lynn to arm's length. He swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry throat and whispered, "Lynn, what are you doing?"

She looked at him in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you hugging me? Aren't you revolted by what I just told you? Aren't you disgusted? Don't you understand? I attacked her, Lynn. She had done nothing to me and I grabbed her by the throat! I wanted to hurt her!"

Lynn pulled her arms out of his hands and cupped his face, looking at him intently. "I know, Greg. I understand. I know what a tragedy like this can do to a person. You directed your anger and pain outward toward other people." She paused briefly. "I directed mine inward at myself. For days I could barely get out of bed, and for weeks I didn't leave the house. I didn't consciously try to push anyone away, but I certainly didn't do anything to prevent them from leaving, either. Like you, my family was determined to help. My sons forced me to take care of myself, and eventually, the pain grew less, and I was able to see that it was not right to basically end my life because John had died. It took a long time, though, just as it did for you."

She stopped and let her hands gently caress Greg's face. "I know the man you have become, Greg Parker, and I am not disgusted by him, nor am I scared of him. I have seen nothing of the hate or anger you had back then; all I see is a man who is loved by his friends and family and respected by his peers. If you were the same man after all this time, I would have seen it in either your actions, or, even if you were a great actor and managed to hide it, in the actions and attitudes of those around you."

Greg didn't know what to say. Deep down, he had expected Lynn to run from him in terror or at least scream at him about what a horrible person he was. He truly did not think that she would be able to handle his story, and the fact that she not only accepted it, but said that she understood it, caused him to slowly slide down the door to the floor. Lynn went with him, still cupping his face. Greg ended up with his legs stretched out in front of him. Lynn was kneeling between them, her knees against his thighs. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, he was so stunned.

Lynn simply smiled sadly at him and leaned forward until her lips met his. He didn't move as she gently kissed him, his eyes slowly sliding shut. As she began kissing him more deeply, however, he couldn't help himself. He grabbed Lynn's waist and pulled her forward until she was sitting on his lap. He kept one hand on her waist and moved the other to the back of her head. He took over the kiss, pouring all of his fear and pain and relief into it. Lynn returned it just as passionately, and Greg could feel his body reacting. He slowly moved the hand on her waist upward until it was on her side, his thumb coming to rest just below her breast. He gently stroked the underside, never releasing her mouth. He felt, rather than heard her moan, and he moved his hand again. He gently cupped her breast and rubbed the nipple with his thumb; even through the layers of clothing, he could feel it harden. Lynn's hands had moved to Greg's head and back, and when she shifted slightly in response to his touch, the friction against his lap, combined with her caresses, almost caused him to lose control.

Greg groaned and pulled her to him, resting his head between her breasts. He held her tightly and whispered, "God, Lynn, what you do to me. What did I do to deserve you?"

She rested her head on top of his and held him just as tightly. Her voice was soft as she responded, "You are a good man, Greg. A wonderful man. You deserve to be happy."

Greg shook his head but said no more. He turned his head and felt her respond as he replaced the hand on her breast with his mouth Her body arched back slightly, and she caught her breath. With each of his gentle caresses, she moved ever so faintly, but it was more than enough to leave Greg harder than he could have imagined. He continued teasing her through her clothing, until he felt an ache begin in his leg.

He groaned, but it wasn't because of what she was doing to him. He didn't want to, but he knew he had to move or his left leg would stiffen up on him completely. He reluctantly pushed Lynn away from him gently and said, "Lynn, I have to get up."

"Are you okay?" she asked with true concern in her voice when she saw him try to hide a grimace.

He smiled to reassure her, though. "I'm fine, but I won't be if I stay like this."

"Oh, Greg, I am so sorry…" she began, but he swiftly brought a finger to her lips to quiet her.

"No," he said, "don't ever be sorry for this. I would stay with you like this forever, but my leg just can't take it."

She stood immediately and put her hand out to help him up. He took it gratefully and staggered to his feet. He flexed his leg slowly, feeling a little bit of stiffness, but it wasn't too bad. He felt his heart constrict at the look of anxiety on Lynn's face, and he hugged her.

"Don't worry, Lynn, I'm fine, really," he whispered. "Just a little stiff."

The anxiety was immediately replaced by a smirk, and she actually let out a snort!

"What's so…" he began, but then he realized what he had said. "Ah, never mind,"

"Hmmm," she murmured. Her hands moved to his chest and began to slowly explore. "Maybe I can help you relax." She was no longer laughing, and her voice had dropped into a husky whisper.

"Oh, God!" Greg closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you saying what I think you are?" _Please, _he thought to himself, _please let the answer be yes!_

Eyes still closed, he felt Lynn slide his jacket off of his shoulders. He opened them as it fell to the ground and found himself looking into brilliant pools of blue, darkened with need.

"Yes, Greg, I want you to make love to me."

Nothing more needed to be said, and Greg swung Lynn into his arms and headed to his bedroom, his stiff leg completely forgotten. They kicked off their shoes, and then he laid her on the covers and stretched over her. He held himself off of her and gazed down into her eyes. He had started to lower his head to her, but stopped when he saw something beneath and behind the desire. He pushed himself back up and looked at her with concern.

"Lynn? Are you sure about this?"

She nodded her head, but her voice was shaking when she said, "Yes, I'm sure. It's just that…"

"What? Please tell me. I don't want to do anything that you'll regret later."

"No, Greg, I won't regret it. It's just that, well, I've never been with anyone but my husband. I'm afraid that…that you'll be disappointed." She turned her head to the side so that he couldn't see her embarrassment.

"Oh, I see," he replied, and he gently turned her head back to him. He kissed her softly while he took her hand and guided it to the bulge in his pants. "This is what you do to me, Lynn," he whispered harshly, "with just your kisses and your touch. I promise you, I won't be disappointed."

Lynn smiled gratefully and used her free hand to pull his head down for another kiss, while she began slowly stroking him through the denim. Greg groaned as she increased speed and the friction became almost more than he could bear. It may have been a long time for Lynn, but it had been almost as long for him, and he was afraid he would not be able to last long if she continued, so he grabbed both of her hands and brought them above her head. He then slowly slid his hands down her arms, past her breasts, and down to her waist. He grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and off. Then he reached behind her to undo the clasp of her bra, and slid that off, as well.

He caught his breath at the sight of her naked breasts beneath him. They were perfect, and he traced the nipple of one with his thumb. Lynn gasped and arched her back, and he cupped her breast, lowering his head to take it into his mouth. Their moans tangled with one another as his tongue took the place of his thumb. He slid his other hand around her waist and pulled her lower body to his own. He could feel her heat even through all the layers of clothing, and he forced himself to take it slowly. He moved his mouth to Lynn's other breast and gave it the same attention, eliciting more moans from both of them.

By this time, Lynn had moved her hands between them and was frantically working the buttons on his shirt. When the last one released, she slid it off his shoulders, making him pull away from her in order to remove it completely. When it was gone, she moved her hands and kneaded his chest, gently flicking his nipples with her thumbs. Greg groaned loudly. Never had something so simple felt so amazing.

He let his hand travel down Lynn's body until it reached the waistband of her pants. He undid the button and zipper, but he stopped there, instead, reaching between her legs and rubbing her through the fabric. He grinned when she cried out, and he continued to tease her in this way until he felt her doing the same to him. Somehow, she had managed to undo his pants without him being aware of it, and now she was rubbing him slowly. He let out a gasp and looked down at her. He was surprised to see an answering grin on her face.

"Two can play at that game, Greg," she said as her hand picked up speed.

It was more than Greg could take, and he pulled away from her. He grabbed the waistband of her pants and pulled them off of her. Her panties quickly followed, and then he stood to remove the rest of his own clothing. He lay on top of her again, settling himself between her legs, feeling how wet she was. He waited one more second, looking Lynn in the eyes and silently asking for her permission. She gave one nod, and he was inside her completely with one thrust.

She cried out his name as he filled her, and he slowly began to move. Lynn's legs wrapped around his hips, giving him better leverage, and her arms went around his neck. He lowered his head and crushed his lips to hers, and then he began to move in earnest. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies and their lips and tongues explored every part they could reach as Greg increased his speed.

"God, Lynn," he groaned, "you feel so good."

Lynn's only reply was the moaning that escaped her lips. He felt her begin to spasm just as he reached his breaking point.

"Yes, Greg, yes! Oh, God, yes!" she screamed as she fell over the edge into ecstasy, her hands tightening against his back.

The sound of his name coming from her lips like that did it for Greg, and, after a few more deep thrusts, he followed her, crying out his pleasure as he erupted inside of her. He collapsed on top of her, slightly to the side so as not to crush her, and they both lay there, panting.

When they came down from their highs, Greg slid out of her and moved so that he was on his side facing her. He propped his head on one hand and used the other to trace small circles on her stomach. She kept her eyes closed, but she squirmed and slapped her hand over Greg's. "Stop, that tickles."

She opened her eyes and looked at him, not at all surprised to see a grin on his face. It wasn't a cocky grin, though; it was a satisfied grin. She smiled back and asked, "Is it safe to say you weren't disappointed?"

Greg grin remained, and he leaned down to kiss her. "Not at all. You?"

"No. As a matter of fact," Lynn rolled onto her side and traced Greg's body softly with one finger, from his shoulder to his hip, "I was so not disappointed that I wouldn't mind doing that again later."

Her gentle caress raised goosebumps on his flesh, but he only laughed and kissed her again. "I'm sure that can be arranged." He wrapped her in his arms and joked, "I'm an old man, though. We will have to wait a while."

"Hey," she said indignantly, "if you're old, then so am I, and I know I'm not!"

Greg chuckled. "No, you most definitely are not."

They lay there, content to be in each other's arms, hands moving on each other gently, soothingly.

"Stay with me tonight," he said abruptly.

"What?" she said, obviously not expecting that.

"I'm serious," he continued, "I want you to stay."

"Greg," she said and sat up, "I don't know what to say."

He didn't let her go far and took her hands in his. "Say yes, Lynn. I don't want you to go. Please?"

She watched him for a moment and then slowly said, "But I don't have anything with me. No clothes, no toothbrush, nothing."

He smiled when he realized that was not a "no," and he said, "That's okay. I have an extra toothbrush, still in the package, and I've got some sweats and a T-shirt you can wear to sleep in."

Lynn didn't say anything for a moment, but then a smile crept across her face. "All right. After all, it's getting late, and I don't want to make you drive me all the way back to my hotel."

Greg's smile turned into a grin, and he pulled her close.

"You know," he said, "I just realized we never ate dinner."

Lynn looked surprised. "You're right," she replied, "but to tell the truth, I am not at all hungry.

"Neither am I."

They lay there until they began to get cold, and then Greg climbed off the bed.

"I'll get you those clothes now."

Lynn watched as he walked to the dresser and rummaged around. Even though he now had what amounted to a desk job, she could tell he still cared about his body. His back muscles rippled as he moved, and, although Lynn wasn't much of a "butt girl," she had to admit that his backside was very enticing. He turned around and she couldn't stop her eyes from exploring him from head to toe as he put the clothes in his hand on the bed. She already knew he was strong, but it was different seeing the muscles that gave him that strength, not to mention the parts lower down. She thought that she had never seen a more desirable man.

Greg smiled when he saw her inspection, crossed his arms, and proceeded to return the favor. He knew that Lynn was beautiful, but seeing her naked in his bed, he thought her beauty was ethereal. He wondered again what he had done to deserve her.

She stood up and picked up the clothes off of the bed. Leaning toward Greg, she placed a quick kiss on his lips and asked, "So, where is the toothbrush?"

"Under the sink," he replied and then watched as she left the bedroom. He stood there until he heard the bathroom door shut, and then he sank down to sit on the edge of the bed.

Greg was not a religious man, but he believed in God, and he sent out a quick prayer of thanks to Him. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Lynn knew what he had done to Marina, and she still chose to stay with him, and not only stay, but to ask him to make love to her.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had never felt this content, this complete, this _real_ after making love before. He knew it was a cliché, but he truly felt that he could now die happy.

He got up and pulled another T-shirt and pair of sweats out of his dresser. Slipping them on, he gathered up his clothes that were strewn on the floor and put them in his hamper. Then he took Lynn's clothes, folded them neatly, and placed them on top of the dresser. He went to the kitchen where he pulled two sodas out of the fridge and took them back to the living room. He was flipping through the channels when Lynn came into the room.

She was swallowed up by the clothing, but Greg thought he had never seen anything sexier in his life. The knowledge that the woman he loved was wearing his clothing – with nothing underneath, he knew, because he had just put her bra and panties with the rest of her clothes – caused a stirring in his groin. It surprised him. He was only half-joking when he said he was an old man, and it had been years since he had been able to go twice in one night.

"You know, I realized something."

He was startled when she spoke; his attention had been so fixed on her body, shapeless as it was in the baggy clothes.

"Huh? Oh, what did you realize?"

"You never finished your story."

"What are you talking about?"

She sat down next to him on the couch and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I asked you how you became such a good cook. You never got to that part."

Greg put his arm around her. "You're right, I didn't. Well, after Marina left me, Eddie got me some help. One of the things my therapist recommended was to find something to fill my time. I had always wanted to learn how to cook, and I mean really cook. I had been divorced for over ten years, but my meals were still your basic bachelor fare. So, I signed up for some cooking classes at a local community college, and I was instantly hooked. I still do a lot of research on my own, mostly online, and, after the comedy channel, the food networks are my next favorite things to watch."

Lynn smiled and said, "That's great, Greg. I'm glad you found something you like to do."

They settled into each other and sat there, watching TV until Lynn spoke.

"Greg?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

The simple words surprised Greg. "For what?"

Lynn heaved a contented sigh. "Everything."

Greg could tell from her voice that she was tired, so he clicked off the television and stood up, holding out his hand to her. "Come on," he said quietly, "let's go to bed."

She took his hand and stood, and Greg kissed her softly before leading her back to his bedroom.

Lynn climbed under the covers and lay down. She frowned slightly when she saw Greg turn off the light and move toward the door.

"Where are you going?" she said peevishly.

Greg smiled at her tone. Now she sounded like him. "I'm just going to brush my teeth," he said, trying not to sound like a father talking to a pouting child.

Either she was too tired to care or he succeeded because she sighed again and snuggled deeper into the covers. "Okay, then," she said quietly, and her eyes closed.

Greg didn't leave immediately; instead he leaned against the doorframe, crossed his arms, and watched as Lynn's breathing slowed until he knew she was asleep. His heart constricted as he walked to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He loved her. He knew it with every fiber of his being.

When he got back to the bedroom, he stood by the bed watching her sleep for a moment before climbing in beside her. He gently gathered her in his arms so as not to wake her and settled in. She grumbled slightly, but she moved closer to him, her head on his chest, and her arm encircling his waist. A deep sense of peace flowed through him as he drifted off to sleep, the woman he loved in his arms.


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

The next morning, Greg woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. The clock said that it was a little past seven thirty. He looked over to the other side of the bed and could still see the indentations on the pillow where Lynn had slept last night. He still could not believe it had happened. He lay quietly as he thought about the events of the past few days. If anyone had asked him last month if he would ever meet someone who made him feel this way, he would have told them absolutely not. After Marina, he was convinced he would never fall in love again. He had told Lynn the truth – he had loved Marina – but the love he felt for Lynn transcended anything he had ever known before. He had heard and read about finding your soulmate, but he had always dismissed the idea as ridiculous. Now, however, he was definitely starting to believe. He smiled broadly and climbed out of bed.

Lynn was standing at the stove with her back to him. She was still dressed in his clothes, but her hair was damp. He was surprised; he must have been sleeping very soundly not to have heard her leave the bed, much less take a shower. He couldn't remember the last time he had done that. Even when he didn't have nightmares, he usually woke up a few times a night, but he had slept through the night with Lynn at his side.

He smiled and came up behind her. The training he had in stealth paid off, and, even with his bum leg, she jumped and caught her breath when he gently moved her hair off of her shoulder. He chuckled and could tell she was about to say something, but when he nuzzled her neck and put his hands around her waist, she relaxed back into him and put her head on his shoulder.

"Greg?"

"Mm hmm?"

"The bacon's going to burn."

She said it so matter-of-factly that Greg could not help bursting out into laughter. He released Lynn with a quick kiss to her temple and moved away. "Well, we don't want that to happen, do we?"

He was still laughing as he got dishes out to set the table. When he got into the dining room, he saw that butter and syrup were already there. He must have been too preoccupied earlier to notice them.

Lynn drained the grease from the bacon and put the strips on a plate. Then she pulled another plate full of pancakes from the oven where they had been warming. After turning off the oven, she brought both plates to the table. Greg tried to follow her into the kitchen again, but she put her hands on his shoulders.

"No," she said firmly, "today I get to serve you." She left him standing there and returned to the kitchen.

Greg sat down at the table and patiently waited, but the smile on his face was evidence that he still found the situation humorous.

Lynn's voice came from the kitchen. "What do you want to drink?"

"Just coffee, thanks. Black." He watched as she came back to the table with a mug in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. "Thank you," he said as she set his coffee in front of him and sat down.

"You are more than welcome," she responded. "I figured I would return the favor of lunch, even though I used your food." She smiled at him as she put bacon and pancakes on his plate.

Greg nodded his thanks and doctored his pancakes. Then he took a bite, and his eyes went wide.

"Wow! These are amazing!" He took another bite and asked, "What did you put in them?"

Lynn smiled enigmatically. "That would be my secret ingredient, and I was very happy to see that you had it in your cabinet."

Greg eyed her carefully. He wasn't sure if she was serious or not. "So, does that mean you won't tell me?"

"Nope."

Greg watched her for a moment longer before he realized she was not going to say anything else, so he just shrugged and proceeded to enjoy the best pancakes he had ever tasted.

"Greg?"

"Yes?"

"I've been meaning to ask you – I thought Dean stayed here when he wasn't at the college. Since you have a break, doesn't that mean he does, too?"

Greg nodded his head. "He does. He hadn't seen his mom for a while, so he decided to spend this break down in Texas with her. He left right after lunch on Monday. He'll be back the day before classes start again."

"Oh," she said, sounding disappointed. "I was hoping to spend some time with him, too. You know, get to know him."

"It's all right," Greg said, "there will be plenty of time for that later. I told him about us before he left, so he wants to get to know you, too."

"What was his reaction?"

"Nothing, really. You have to remember that it's different for him than it is for your kids. His mom and I have been apart since he was seven, and since he's been here with me, I've dated a few women. He's used to me having someone in my life; your kids aren't."

She simply nodded, and they focused on finishing breakfast. When their plates were empty, Greg looked at Lynn and decided that he had to know exactly how long she was going to stay, both in Canada and in his apartment.

"Lynn," he asked, "have you thought about when you are going to leave?"

She looked up from her plate and nodded. "Actually, I have. I can only stay about one more week. I have to get back before school starts. I'll be leaving next Saturday." She reached across the table and took Greg's hand when he groaned and closed his eyes. "Greg? What's wrong?"

Nine days. That was all they had to be together. It wasn't like she was just going back to work or visiting her mother for a while. She would be thirteen hundred miles away, and he wouldn't see her for weeks, or even months, at a time. Even with Skype and email and telephones, he knew that each day without her would be torture.

He squeezed the hand he was holding and looked at her with a small, sad smile and said, "I just don't want you to go."

She looked at him seriously and said, "I don't want to go, either, Greg, but we both know I have to."

He nodded reluctantly. "I know, but I don't have to like it. I want to spend as much time as possible with you until you go." He paused before continuing. "I want you to spend that time here with me."

Lynn pulled her hand from his, sat back in her chair, and studied him. "What are you saying?"

Greg leaned forward, putting his arms on the table. "I want you to stay here instead of at the hotel."

Lynn didn't answer. She sat silently, and Greg could see her mind working. He waited patiently, knowing that she had to consider his invitation carefully.

After a few minutes, he was devastated to see her shake her head. "No, Greg, I'm not ready for that."

His heart dropped, but he simply nodded his head and forced a smile. "All right, Lynn, I understand," and he did, but her answer was still like a physical blow to his chest.

They finished breakfast in an uncomfortable silence, and later, while they were in the kitchen cleaning up, Lynn suddenly turned to him.

"Greg, are you okay?"

The concern in her eyes and voice cut Greg to the quick. He had unfairly put her on the spot with his request, and she was worried about him. He quickly wrapped his arms around her and held her close. Her arms went around him, and he held his breath for a moment before answering. "Do you want the truth?"

She pulled out of the embrace to look up into his face. "Of course I do."

He traced her jawbone with his thumb before cupping her face in his hand. "All right, then, no, I'm not okay. I mean it when I say that I understand that you aren't ready, I really do, but I want you to stay with me. I want to spend every minute of every day of the next week with you." He leaned down and placed a tender, lingering kiss on her lips. "I'm not okay, but I will be." He took a deep breath and pulled her to him. He closed his eyes as he breathed in the scent of his shampoo mingled with her own unique scent, and he vowed to himself that if all he had was nine days with her, he would do everything possible to make those nine days perfect.

Greg didn't know how long they stayed that way, just holding each other, but eventually, Lynn moved back. She draped her arms around his neck, and she looked him in the eye for a long while. Then she drew his head down and kissed him.

"Thank you for understanding, Greg."

He sighed deeply and smiled. Placing a quick kiss on her lips, he replied, "You are welcome."

They moved away from each other to finish their clean-up of the kitchen. When they finished, Lynn turned to Greg.

"I need to call my kids and tell them when I am getting back."

"Of course. Why don't you go into Dean's room to talk?"

Lynn nodded her appreciation, grabbed her purse, went into Dean's room and closed the door.

Greg was watching TV when she came out about an hour later, and the look on her face told him that the conversations did not go well.

"Lynn?" he said with concern when she didn't move from the bedroom doorway.

She looked at him and slowly moved to the couch to sit beside him. When she didn't speak, he said, "Hey, is everything all right?"

"No, not really. I called each of my kids and told them I will be coming home next Saturday. William and Rose didn't ask any questions, but May and James did, so I told them about us."

"What did you say?"

"I said that I really liked you, and that I would be spending most of my time left in Toronto with you."

_She likes me_, he thought bitterly, _not loves_. He shouldn't be so disappointed; after all, they had known each other less than a week. Just because it was love at first sight for him didn't mean it was for her, too. He had to be patient.

"So, were they okay with that?" he asked softly.

"Not exactly," she answered with a short, harsh laugh, "but they'll get used to the idea." She grabbed Greg and kissed him passionately, as if branding him as hers. When she broke off the kiss, she looked up at him and smiled seductively. "They'll have to get used to it."

The kiss, combined with the look she gave him, inflamed Greg, and need darkened his eyes. "Yes, they will," he growled, and he returned his lips to hers sensually. He began exploring every centimeter of her mouth with his tongue and teeth while he slipped his hands underneath her T-shirt. and slowly pulled it off, releasing her mouth only long enough to remove it before locking their mouths together again. She had not put her bra back on after showering, and he caressed her bare back with one hand. He reveled in the gasp that escaped her when he gently brushed his palm over a nipple with the other, feeling it harden instantly. He intensified his movements, and she responded by pulling his shirt over his head, again breaking the kiss only for the instant needed to get rid of it. She gently scraped her fingernails down his back, and the sensation went straight to his groin.

He groaned and pulled Lynn onto his lap until she was straddling him, knees on the couch. He slid one hand between her legs and felt moisture seeping through the sweats. He realized she had not put on her underwear after the shower, either, and that knowledge drove him insane. He pushed the sweats down, Lynn maneuvering just enough so that he could slide them off her. His own sweats soon followed, and then they were lost in each other, touching and tasting, stroking and plunging, inhaling each other's scent until they lost all sense of time or space, aware of nothing but the feel of the other beneath their hands and bodies.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Two days after Greg asked Lynn to stay, he and his friends were back at O'Malley's for their weekly pow-wow. Greg had wanted to blow it off, but Lynn insisted that he go. She didn't want to be the reason that he missed their get-together for the first time since they started the tradition over a year ago. None of them had missed it, as a matter of fact, but this Friday was one of the few times Greg was not at the restaurant before his friends. Usually, he had so little to do that he was eager to get there and so was the first to arrive, but this evening, he had wanted to spend as much time with Lynn as possible, so by the time he got to their regular table, the other four men were already halfway through their beers before Greg arrived.

"Hey, buddy," Ed called out when Greg walked up to the table and sat down, "what took you so long? We were beginning to wonder if you were coming."

Greg smiled mysteriously as he signaled to Tom for his Coke. He replied simply, "I was busy."

His friends saw this teasing response as a challenge. Spike spoke up first. "Busy, huh, Boss? Anyone we know?"

The smirk on Spike's face told Greg that he already knew the answer, as he was sure the others did, too, but he decided he could have some fun with this.

"Yeah, I think you met her before," he answered innocently, "but I'm not sure if you would remember her."

Sam and Wordy exchanged amused looks, and then Sam chimed in. "Well, perhaps if you described her, it might jog our memories."

"Better yet," Wordy said quickly before Greg could respond, "why don't we try to guess?"

"Great idea! Twenty questions!" Spike said. "Me first." He took a moment as if he was thinking hard and then said, "Does she have blonde hair?"

Greg smiled. He was so grateful that he had friends with whom he could joke around like this. "Yes, she does."

"Is it curly blonde hair?" Ed was warming up to this.

"Yes, it is."

"Hmmm," Sam said, a thoughtful look on his face, "is it possible she is about five and a half feet tall?"

"Yeah, I'd say that's about right."

"My turn," said Wordy. "Let's see, I'm going to guess that she's not from here. The States, perhaps?"

Greg laughed softly. "Man, you guys are good! Is there anything you don't know?"

"Yes," Ed said, "we don't know exactly what you two have been doing for the last five days. You haven't called any of us even once; I think that's a record."

Ed had said this with humor in his voice, but it made Greg stop laughing. Ed was right. Since the night of the bombings, there was rarely a day that went by that he didn't call up one or more of his friends, especially after Marina left him. He had been so lonely and depressed that he had desperately needed someone to talk to, and he never once thought how his constant phone calls and texts may have affected them or their families. Ed's comment made him realize that he may have intruded on his friends' lives much more than he was aware of, but it also made him extremely thankful to have friends with whom he could be that needy and never hear one word of complaint or criticism.

"You're right, Eddie. I never thought about how much I have relied on you guys the past year and a half." He looked around the table at the four men with whom he had been through so much, and he felt his heart swell with love for them. "I want to say thank you to all of you for everything you've done for me. Without you - especially you, Eddie - I don't think I would have made it."

All humor was gone as the four men looked at their friend, their mentor, their Boss, the man who they all respected more than they could ever express. No one spoke, but they all smiled or nodded their acceptance of his appreciation, while Ed, who was sitting next to Greg, slapped him on the back.

"You know we've always had your back, Greg, and we always will," he said seriously, and the others nodded their agreement.

The table was silent for a moment, and then Sam cleared his throat. "So, anyway, do we get the dirty details about you and Mrs. Mitchell?" he said lightly, trying to break the somber mood that had fallen on them. It worked, and the men all chuckled.

Greg smiled as he looked down at his drink as if he were thinking hard. "Let's see," he began, "we've been to the zoo, the museum, had a few picnics, and even went to the movies once." The smile grew into a grin when he looked up and saw the expectant looks on the other men's faces.

When he said no more, Ed indicated with his hand that he wanted more. "And?"

"And what?" Greg said, his eyes going innocently wide.

Ed huffed and rolled his eyes, while the other three just sat, waiting impatiently. "And, anything else happen?"

"Edward Tucker Lane," Greg said as if offended, "you should know that a gentleman never kisses and tells!"

"Ah ha!" Wordy cried out, his finger in the air like Sherlock Holmes. "So there was kissing!"

Greg laughed. "I didn't say that, Wordy. It's just an expression, you know?"

"Yes it is," Wordy replied, "but it's not one that you would use unless there was something to tell - after kissing, of course."

The other men laughed as well, and Greg said, "Well, that may be true, but I can tell you right now that you are not hearing anything about it from me."

The laughter continued for a while, and then the conversation drifted off into other topics as the men realized that, despite the laughter, Greg was very serious and that they were getting no more information from him.

After a few hours, Sam said, "Well, I'd better get home before Jules begins to wonder what happened to me. It was great being with you again. 'Til next week?"

"Next week," they all agreed, and with that, they all said goodbye, shook hands, and hugged.

Ed and Greg walked out together, and, before they separated, Ed stopped and took a long look at Greg.

"What is it, Eddie?"

Ed was silent for a moment before stating, "You're happy with her, Greg. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about her."

It wasn't a question, but Greg nodded and answered nonetheless. "I am, Eddie. Happier than I can remember being in a very, very long time."

Ed placed his hand on Greg's shoulder. He spoke quietly, "I'm glad, Greg. You deserve it after everything you've been through. You deserve her."

Greg returned the gesture. "Thanks, Eddie, that means a lot."

The two best friends looked affectionately at each other before walking away to their separate cars, Greg thinking once again how lucky he was to have his friends in his life. And now, in addition to friendship, he was finding love once again, as well.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Greg and Lynn spent almost every minute of the next week together. They spent their time learning everything they could about each other while having picnics in the park and going to museums and other tourist locations. They also spent a lot of time at Greg's apartment, watching TV, playing cards, and enjoying each other's company. Greg was spoiling Lynn with his cooking, but she definitely was not complaining. Besides, he thoroughly enjoyed when she cooked for him, as well. It was nice to not have to fend for himself all the time. And neither of them was complaining about how they spent their nights, and sometimes their days, too. Their lovemaking had run the gamut from slow and tender late at night in her hotel room or his bedroom to hot and passionate against the wall of his dining room while lunch sat cooling on the table. But every night ended the same way: with Greg outside Lynn's door, forcing himself to walk away even though it felt like his heart was dying bit by bit with every step he took.

Friday came around again all too soon, and with it the realization that this was to be their last day together. It was also the day of the team's monthly family barbecue. It had become a tradition that they had this time together on the beach overlooking Lake Ontario.

Greg and Lynn were the last ones to arrive. As they walked hand in hand up to the others, Lynn carrying a bowl of coleslaw they had made, they could smell the steaks and hamburgers grilling, and they heard the laughter that came from both the adults and children. The older girls had their shoes and socks off and were wading in the shallows with Clark while Izzy and Sadie were seated on a blanket near their parents, playing with a beach ball.

"Greg!" Ed called out as soon as he saw them.

Greg waved and smiled, and instantly all of his friends had surrounded them, each welcoming him with a smile and a hug, handshake, or slap on the back. They greeted Lynn just as enthusiastically, and the women soon managed to separate her from Greg, directing her off to the side while the men encircled Greg.

Lynn looked back over her shoulder and smiled apologetically when she saw the dejection on Greg's face. His friends must have seen it, too, because Spike spoke up, "Don't worry, Boss, they won't take her too far away." The men all laughed when Greg turned a look on Spike that said he wasn't amused.

Greg desperately wanted to go after her, but his friends were being very persistent about getting his attention, and he soon gave up watching Lynn and focused on them.

Ed slipped his arm around Greg's shoulder as he handed him a cold Coke before leading him to the grill. This barbecue was taking the place of the men's Friday night at O'Malley's, and the questions began immediately. "So, anything you want to tell us? What's she like? What have you two been doing that we haven't heard from you in a week?"

Greg had to smile at the enthusiasm of his friends, and he began telling them about Lynn. He talked about how much time they had spent together and where he had taken her. He spoke about their mutual love for cooking and how grateful he was to have someone to cook for as well as someone who would cook for him. He told his team about almost everything that had been happening to him the last two weeks, but he made not one mention about their love life, and he didn't express his true feelings for Lynn. He mentioned that he liked her, but he wouldn't confess his love to his friends until he confessed it to Lynn herself.

The conversation eventually continued onto other topics, and soon Sam announced that the meat was done. Ed whistled to Clark, who gathered up the girls and moved toward the tables. There was already a variety of side dishes in the centers of the tables, and it wasn't long before everyone was seated on the benches with full plates.

As much as they were apart while the food was cooking, families sat together at the tables, so Greg and Lynn were next to each other again, and Greg took the opportunity to lay his hand on her thigh. He was rewarded with a smile and a quick kiss. Apparently, the women had gotten all they were going to out of Lynn, just as Greg was not about to say anything more to the guys, so there were no more questions regarding their relationship.

The day progressed quickly until darkness began to fall, and it was time for everyone to go home. Hugs and handshakes were given all around, coolers and blankets gathered up, and children corralled. Greg and Lynn stood watching their friends leave, enjoying the cool evening breeze and the sounds of impeding night, his arm around her shoulder and hers around his waist.

"Let's not go back just yet," Lynn said softly, laying her head on Greg's shoulder.

"All right, what do you want to do?"

Lynn sighed serenely and tightened her hold on him. "Just walk," she said, "and appreciate the night."

Greg pulled her closer to him, and they walked down toward the lake. They stopped just short of the water line and began to follow the shore westward toward the setting sun. They didn't speak for a while, and, at one point, they stood still as the sun slowly sank behind the horizon in a blaze of red and orange, the colors reflecting off of the water looking like a child's spilled finger paints.

They watched until the brilliant colors faded into grays, and when it was over, Greg heard Lynn release a sigh, but it didn't sound like the type that meant, "That was so beautiful!" It sounded like her heart was breaking.

Greg kissed the top of her head and whispered, "What's wrong?"

Lynn didn't answer, but Greg felt her shoulders begin to shake, and he realized she was crying.

"Lynn?" he said, worry evident in his voice. He took her by the shoulders and turned her to him.

Her eyes were tightly shut, and tears were streaming down her face as she stood with her hands on his hips. Greg tried to gently wipe the tears away, but more kept coming. "Darling, what's the matter?"

Lynn only shook her head, unable to speak. Greg drew her to himself, softly caressing her hair while murmuring comforting words to her. She just clung to his shirt and continued to cry.

"Shh, it's okay. Tell me what's wrong. Lynn? Please talk to me."

It took a while for her to calm down, but when she finally did, she took a deep breath and stood there without releasing her grip on him.

Greg took her face in his hands and gently kissed her forehead.

"Okay now?"

Lynn nodded and tried to smile, but didn't succeed. Her eyes were still sad as she stared into his. She took another deep breath before she said softly, "I just realized how very much I am going to miss you."

Her words felt like a knife through his heart. He knew exactly what she was talking about, but he had deliberately refused to think about it this past week. It was almost time for her to go home, and the thought shattered him. Just a few more hours – one more night – and she would leave him. Since he met her, he had been happier than he could remember, and, although he knew she had to go eventually, he had tried to ignore that reality, choosing instead to pretend that things could stay this perfect forever.

He pulled her back to his chest and held her tightly. He released his own sigh as he looked up at the stars just beginning to shine in the sky. His eyes closed and he tried to calm his own racing thoughts and emotions before resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"I will miss you, too, Lynn, more than I ever could have imagined. If someone had told me six months ago that I would meet a woman who could make me feel like this in such a short time, I would have laughed at him."

He looked up and saw a bench not far away, an antique-looking light post next to it casting a soft glow in the deepening darkness. They slowly walked over and sat down. Lynn's shoulders were slumped, and she looked as if she were going to cry again. Greg enclosed her in his arms and buried his face in her curls. He inhaled deeply, trying to imprint her unique smell in his mind. Gathering his courage, he took her face in his hands. His eyes captured hers as he gently caressed with his fingers her temples, her cheeks, her lips. The light shone off of her hair, burnishing it to a bronze sheen. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke in a husky whisper, his gaze never leaving hers.

"Lynn, I love you."

He felt, rather than heard her gasp softly, and his heart plummeted. He knew that he was taking a grave risk telling her, but he also knew that he couldn't let her leave without knowing exactly how he felt. The risk was that he had just made a huge mistake and that she would never want to see him again, that he had scared her away, but her actions toward him the past two weeks, the conversations they had had, and the way she obviously enjoyed his company, gave him hope that, even if she did not return his love right now, at least she would be willing to continue their relationship. They sat, silent and still, for a long minute, and Greg began to fear that he had indeed made the greatest mistake of his life. Then Lynn brought her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. It was a soft, gentle kiss, and even when their tongues met, it remained so, but to Greg, it was the most sensual thing he had ever experienced. When it ended, and Lynn pulled away, Greg held his breath and waited for her to say something.

Lynn kept her arms draped over Greg's shoulders and smiled at him. "I love you, too, Greg."

They were the words he never really thought he would hear. He had hoped to hear them, prayed to hear them, even, but deep down, he didn't expect to hear them. The sound of them leaving her lips inflamed him, and he crushed her to him, finding her mouth again. This time, there was no gentleness in the kiss. Greg poured out all of his love, his longing, and his frustration at her leaving into it, permanently branding her as his. His hands roamed freely over her body, and he felt himself respond as she returned his passion just as fervidly.

When they finally separated and became aware of their surroundings again, Greg remembered that they were sitting in a very public place. Even though darkness had fallen, and there were no people around at the moment, that didn't mean that someone wouldn't walk by at any time.

"Lynn," he said softly.

"Yes?" she murmured, her hand slowly tracing its way down his chest toward the waistband of his pants.

He gasped and caught it just before she reached her goal, bringing it to his lips to place a kiss on her palm.

"I don't think this is the place for that, do you?"

She looked around into the darkness surrounding them. When she looked back at him, she had a mischievous glint in her eye. "Why not? There's no one around."

"Ha!" Greg was a little shocked at the wantonness Lynn was displaying, but it excited him, and he smiled at her. "Maybe not right now, but what's to stop someone from walking by? The last thing we need is to have to explain to an officer who is making his rounds through the park what we are doing. I don't think that would look too good on my police record."

She smiled back. "I suppose you're right, but I am warning you now," and she pulled her hand from his grasp and reached between his legs, "that if we don't get back to my hotel soon, I may not care about your police record."

Greg hadn't moved so quickly in months. He practically dragged Lynn back to his car, hearing her laughter in his ears all the way. He knew she had mentioned her hotel instead of his apartment because it was much closer to where they were now. As he pulled out of the parking lot, Lynn returned her hand to his lap and began slowly stroking him. He groaned loudly and chanced a glance at her.

"God, Lynn, you're going to make me crash!"

Lynn smiled seductively and continued her motions. "Not you, Greg Parker," she teased, "you never lose control."

Greg groaned again at her innuendo and tried to focus on driving. Lynn certainly knew what she was doing. During the fifteen minute drive to her hotel, she managed to bring him to the brink several times, each time backing off on her ministrations just enough to let him relax before beginning again. By the time they reached their destination, Greg thought he just might go insane, and he vowed that she would pay for her teasing.

They made their way to her room, and the instant they were inside, Greg slammed the door behind him, threw his cane on the floor, and grabbed Lynn, spinning her around until her back was against the wood. He pressed himself against her until she couldn't move.

"That wasn't nice," he growled, pinning her hands above her head with one of his.

She smiled alluringly, enjoying this side of Greg. He had never been rough before, but she knew he wouldn't hurt her. "I wasn't trying to be nice," she said gruffly, gasping when he slid his hand under her shirt and bra and grasped her breast.

"Hm," he grunted, pinching her nipple between his finger and thumb, her groan causing him to test the strength of his pants. "We'll see how you like being teased."

He had noticed that she had on a front-clasp bra, so he moved his hand to undo it. She was wearing a button-down shirt, and he deftly began undoing the buttons with his free hand. At the same time, he mashed his lips down on hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth, and plundering the depths. He released her mouth only to nip and lick his way down her jawline to her neck, continuing down until he reached her collarbone. He nibbled at her until the last button was released and her shirt and bra were open, and then he brought his head up to kiss her again, relishing the moans coming from her throat. She tried to squirm against him, but he held her tightly against the door with his body, knowing that she could feel his excitement. His free hand cupped her breast, and he squeezed before trailing his fingers down to the button of her pants.

As he undid the fastenings and allowed her pants to fall to the ground, Lynn gasped, "Greg, please."

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eye and stopped all other motion, one hand still holding her hands above her and the other resting just above the waistband of her panties. He grinned naughtily. "Please what? I want to hear you beg." He lowered his head to her neck and began to suck and bite the tender flesh. He knew she would probably have a hickie in the morning, and it made him even harder to know that she would be marked by him.

"Please make love to me!"

He laughed softly. "No. Not yet. I'm not done paying you back for your actions in the car," and with that, he slipped his hand into her underwear while resuming his designs on her neck.

Lynn cried out and tried to push herself closer to his hand, but he kept his touch light and only grazed her with his fingertips. He proceeded to imitate her previous behavior, teasing her until he felt her begin to shudder and then backing off just long enough to bring her back down before starting again.

The sensations were too much for her to bear, and Lynn's breathing became heavier and faster until she cried out, "God, Greg, please! Please, I need you!"

A growl began deep in Greg's chest, and he claimed her lips in a bruising kiss. He released Lynn's arms, and they made their way to the bed, never breaking contact. Greg pulled Lynn's shirt and bra off of her arms before pushing her onto the bed. He quickly rid himself of his own clothing and climbed on top of her, removing her panties on the way. Their passion was so inflamed that he lost no time in entering her. He moved quickly and powerfully, needing to feel her around him, needing her to feel him. Their hands and mouths never stopped moving on each other until they reached their climaxes together and cried out the other's name.

As they rested afterwards, Greg held himself off of her with his elbows and slowly traced her temple with his finger, down to her jaw. He studied her face intently, marveling that this beautiful woman was with him in his life.

"I love you, Lynn." Now that he had said it once, he would never tire of saying it to her.

She smiled and pulled him down for a kiss. "And I love you, Greg."

Unwilling to leave, Greg asked, "Lynn, may I stay here with you tonight?"

She kissed him again. "Yes. I was going to ask you to. I don't want to be away from you any sooner than I have to be."

Greg smiled sadly, thrilled that she was letting him stay, but devastated that it was only for one more night. He didn't voice his sorrow, though, and only shifted so that they could crawl under the covers.

"Me either, my love," he whispered as he gathered her in his arms.

He stayed awake long after she fell asleep, listening to her breathe, not wanting to miss one single moment that they had left. Sleep eventually claimed him, however, and he knew nothing more until morning.


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

The morning came all too soon, and Greg woke to the sound of the alarm clock blaring in his ear. He reached over without opening his eyes and slapped the snooze button hard enough to make the clock bounce and fall off the nightstand. The floor was carpeted, but he still heard something crack, and he grimaced. He guessed that the alarm would not be going off again, but they had given themselves more than enough time to get ready, and he knew he would not fall asleep again.

"Oops!" he heard Lynn say as she moved so that her head was on his chest. "You may have to pay for that."

"Small price to pay for peace and quiet," he returned, holding her tightly, eyes still closed. He kissed the top of her head and began to trace her back with one hand very slowly. He covered every inch, every millimeter, memorizing the shape, the texture, the feel of her skin. He moved to her arms and sides, and when he came to the end of his reach, he gently laid Lynn back on the bed and continued his tactile study of her body without ever opening his eyes. He heard Lynn gasp every time he caressed a sensitive spot, but she seemed to know what he was doing, what he needed, and she lay still. He progressed over her chest, pausing to feel her heartbeat and her breathing. Next he proceeded down her stomach to her hips, down the outside of her legs to her feet. Once there, he began to travel back up her body, this time along the inside of her legs, until he reached their junction. He could feel her arousal, but he spent no more time there than anywhere else. He continued upward until he had cupped her head in his hands, examining her features in minute detail with his fingertips. He finished with his palms on her jawline and his thumbs tracing her lips.

He opened his eyes.

He saw the woman he loved with all his heart lying beneath him, her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, a look of utter bliss on her face. His heart clenched with the thought that this would be the last time for a very, very long while that he would be able to look at her like this, and he studied her face with his eyes just as he had done with his hands. She still hadn't moved to touch him, her hands remaining at her sides. This was the way he wanted it right now; he wanted to let her know how much he adored her without any thought to his own desires. He could feel her breath on his thumbs, and he slowly lowered his mouth to hers, shifting his hold in order to draw her head and body to him. While he softly, achingly brushed her lips with his, he molded his body to hers. When his arousal came, it was more of an awakening than an inferno, something that was almost innocent instead of carnal.

He drew his head away from her when he felt a wetness pooling underneath the palm that was cupping her cheek. Lynn's eyes were still closed, but tears were slowly seeping from the corners, rolling silently down her face.

"Sweetheart," he whispered, lovingly kissing the tears away as they fell, "please don't cry. It breaks my heart to see you sad."

She didn't move or speak, but she opened her eyes and locked gazes with him. Their brilliant blue was enhanced by the shimmering of the tears that continued to fall. Greg caught his breath at the anguish he saw shining out at him, and he desperately wished he could do something, anything, to make it go away, hurting all the more knowing that he couldn't.

"Darling," he began, but she finally moved and brought one finger to his lips, silencing his words. Her hand slipped to the back of his neck while the other went around to his back. She began to delicately trail her fingertips over his skin, her touch marking him imperceptibly just as much as his mouth had marked her physically the night before. He closed his eyes as she slowly pulled his head down to her. Her kiss was no more passionate than his had been, and, as their mouths caressed each other, he took her hands in his and raised her arms above her head. The tenderness between them continued, even when he pressed into her and began to move. There was no urgency, no desperation, no lust in their movements; there was only deep longing and love. They did not speak and only stared into one another's eyes, reading everything that needed to be said there. Lynn had stopped crying, but her eyes were still glistening as they looked at each other.

Greg had begun to move a little faster when Lynn freed her hands from his and gently rolled them over until she was straddling him, her eyes never leaving his. She slowly began to rotate her hips, and Greg could not suppress a low groan. He brought his hands to her hips and followed their movements as they alternated between circles and up and down.

"God, I adore you," he whispered, his heart in his words.

Lynn laid her hands on his chest, giving herself more leverage. "I love you, Greg," she sighed as his hands took control. He moved her hips faster and faster, and their breathing became ragged and harsh, but they never broke contact with their eyes. Even when they both climaxed, Lynn's hands clenching Greg's shoulders and his hands tightly encircling her hips, they still held their gaze. It wasn't until Lynn lowered her mouth to his that they finally closed their eyes.

Greg rolled them back over while they kissed until he was once again on top of her. He lowered his body down onto hers as they broke the kiss, and he buried his face in the pillow next to her head. They lay silently until their breathing returned to normal, and then Greg pushed himself off of Lynn to lay on his right side next to her. He gathered her into his arms and held her tightly, hating their situation. He wanted to be with her like this forever, and he didn't know how he was going to handle not being able to touch her every night and feel her touching him. He desperately wanted to go with her to Colorado today, but he knew he couldn't. He had his obligations at the college, and he couldn't just leave them in the lurch.

They lay there, both in their own thoughts, until Greg felt Lynn's fingers gently brush the scar on his chest, just below his armpit. He caught his breath as she traced the round mark tenderly and then trailed her fingertips down his side, over his hip, and down to the matching scar on the front of his thigh. She had seen his scars before, but she had never examined them like this, and just as he had felt the need to memorize every inch of her body, it seemed she needed to do the same. They were the only two physical reminders from the day he got shot. Neither bullet went through his body, so there were no accompanying scars on his back or the back of his leg.

Lynn pulled away from him, her hand still tracing the marring on his thigh, and Greg saw that her brow was furrowed, and her mouth was turned down into a frown. She looked up him, the anger on her face growing with each second.

Greg gently placed his hand over hers, ceasing her motions. "What is it?"

She frowned even more deeply as if trying to think of how to phrase her thoughts. Greg waited patiently until she spoke, her answer surprising him. "I was just thinking about how furious I am at the man who did this to you. I know that Ed killed him, and I am glad for that, but how could anyone be that evil? He killed my husband, and he could have killed you."

Greg nodded as he pulled her hand away from his leg and held it to his chest. "Yes, he could have, but he didn't." He brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed the knuckles. "I learned a long time ago that there are evil people in this world, Lynn, and it is impossible to understand their motivations sometimes. As for Marcus Faber, though, I truly don't think he was evil; I think he was a destroyed, tortured young man who'd had his life, his security, his beliefs, and his innocence ripped from him at far too young an age, and in far too violent a fashion, and he couldn't deal with it. He was only trying to relieve his pain and torment by inflicting even more pain and torment on others. The real criminal was Anson Holt, the man who turned Marcus into what he was. I lay all the blame of what happened to me, to you, to my friends, and to my city squarely on Holt." Greg's own anger came to the surface, and he forced himself to keep his voice steady, but his hands fisted in the sheets. "And Holt's name is inscribed on that monument right along with all of the victims, while one victim, Marcus, will forever be remembered as the evil one. It's not fair!" He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths to calm himself.

After he accomplished that, he opened his eyes and looked at Lynn. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to dump all of that on you, especially today."

"No, don't apologize. I asked, and you answered. Besides, I never looked at it that way before. I knew about the experiments Holt conducted, of course; everyone did, but the news didn't go into too much detail. I didn't realize it was Holt who made Faber into the man who killed my husband."

"It wasn't only Holt. There was something already in Marcus that Holt's actions kindled into a raging inferno. After all, he had other students who didn't bomb the city, but every single one of his victims either imploded or exploded, some attempting to kill themselves, some succeeding, some ending up in jail. Out of those who are still alive, none have normal lives now. Marcus was just the most well-known, the one who was most successful in making others pay for his pain."

Lynn leaned over and kissed Greg. "Well," she said sincerely, "I am eternally grateful that he didn't succeed completely."

Greg smiled and said, "Me too, Lynn, me too."

He placed a quick kiss on her forehead before rolling over and picking the clock up from the floor. He looked at it and noticed that it seemed to be working fine in spite of the sound it had made hitting the floor. According to it, they had a little over four hours before Lynn's plane left. He placed the clock back on the nightstand and frowned when Lynn also saw what time it was and said, "Greg, we need to get up. I've got to get ready to go."

The frown remained, but Greg nodded and said simply, "I know." He climbed out of bed and held a hand out to Lynn, helping her stand. He started to move toward his clothing, but she held on to his hand and pulled him toward the bathroom.

"What are you doing, Lynn?"

She turned so that she could take both of his hands in hers, walking backwards. "We are going to shower together. We only have a few more hours left, and I don't want you out of my sight or my reach for a single second of that time."

Greg only grinned as they entered the bathroom. After adjusting the temperature, Lynn stepped into the shower; Greg followed. Just like when they had made love, their shower was free from passion or craving. Instead, it was a time of gentle caresses and tender kisses.

After washing each other, they stepped out and wrapped themselves in fluffy, white towels. Greg had Lynn sit on the bed while he dried her hair with another towel. He knew by now that she didn't blow dry her hair; she said it made the curls frizzy. As they continued to get ready, they talked about mundane things, not wishing to bring up anything emotional again, at least not yet. Greg knew that their parting would be very emotional, but that could wait.

It was about an hour later when they were ready to leave. Greg carried one of Lynn's suitcases as she rolled the other behind her. They made their way down to the front desk where she finished up the checkout paperwork, and then they took the elevator down to the parking garage.

After pulling out into traffic, Greg reached over and intertwined his fingers with Lynn's, resting their hands on the center console.

"Don't you need both hands to drive?" she asked.

"Nope," he replied, grinning. "That's the beauty of an automatic transmission." He glanced at her only to see an answering grin on her face.

The rest of the drive was spent in companionable silence. This silence continued until they came to the airline's check-in counter. Lynn had already completed most of the check-in procedure online, but she needed to check her bags. Usually, passengers had to proceed alone from this point, and goodbyes were said here, but the two of them proceeded to the metal detectors together. Once there, Greg showed his badge and stated simply that he was escorting Mrs. Mitchell to her flight. He knew it was not the most ethical thing to do, using his position as a police officer for such a personal reason, but at this point he didn't care. As Lynn had said, he wanted her within sight and touch until she boarded the plane. The personnel they came in contact with never questioned his statement. In fact, several recognized him and took the opportunity to shake his hand and tell him how honored they were to meet him. He simply thanked them and smiled, inwardly hating the attention.

After another couple of hours waiting in lines and waiting at counters at the U.S. Customs hall, they finally made it to the gate with about an hour to spare. They sat, Lynn resting her head on Greg's shoulder, his arm around her. They could see the plane already pulled up to the gate, and for a few moments, they stared out at it, both lost in their own thoughts. Then Greg rested his cheek on Lynn's head and whispered, "I am going to miss you so much, Lynn. I don't know how I am going to handle you being gone." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to will the tears that were forming to remain behind his lids. He succeeded with all but one, and that one squeezed out of the corner of his eye and traced a slow, sad trail down his face until it landed in Lynn's curls.

She sat up and turned to him, her own eyes swimming in tears that didn't fall. She caressed his cheek, wiping away the trail his tear had made. "I will miss you too, Greg. I love you so much, it hurts when I think of being away from you." She made an attempt at a smile. "But you know it won't be long before we are together again. And when we are, it will be even more wonderful."

Greg smiled sadly at her attempt to find the bright side of their situation, but he knew that she was just as devastated as he was. "It will be far too long, my love. Even one night away from you is too long. I died a little every time I had to leave your hotel door; how am I going to survive weeks without you?"

His words broke the dam that was holding back her tears, and they began to flow down her cheeks. Her voice stuck in her throat when she tried to answer him, and he drew her to his chest, holding her while she cried. "Shh," he crooned, "I know." He continued murmuring comforting words and phrases, and after a while, her tears stopped. He didn't release her, however, until the boarding call came over the loudspeaker.

She looked at him with anguish in her eyes. He was sure that his own eyes reflected the same, but he stood up and pulled her to her feet. He clasped her to himself as if his strength alone could keep her from getting on the plane. As other passengers moved around them, most looking at them with compassion and understanding, Greg could not make his arms release her. They stood there, desperation making them cling to each other, until the final boarding call was announced. Finally, he forced himself to move back until he was only holding her arms. He couldn't speak, so he leaned down and kissed her passionately, once again memorizing her feel, her taste, her smell, her essence.

When they broke the kiss, Lynn moved slowly toward the plane, looking back at Greg and holding his hand until the distance was too great, and their hands slipped apart. She regretfully turned to the agent and handed over her ticket. Greg remained where he was and watched as she walked slowly down the gangway. Just before turning the corner to enter the plane, she turned back, smiled sadly, and blew him a kiss before mouthing the words, "I love you."

He returned the kiss and the words, and then she disappeared from his sight. He immediately walked to the window and stared out at the plane. He fervently wished there would be some problem with it that wouldn't threaten the people on the plane, but that would make it unable to fly. Then they could have another couple of hours together. It was not to be, however, and soon the gangway folded up, and the plane backed out of its place by the terminal. As it taxied out of his sight, he placed both hands on the window and rested his forehead on the glass. The tears that had not fallen before were now streaming down his face, and he stood there, unashamedly letting them fall at his feet. He was still standing, still breathing, but his heart was now on its way to another country, and the emptiness that was left in its place kept him from moving for a very long time.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Greg didn't remember how he got home. His mind had subconsciously navigated the streets and traffic lights through the city, but it was consciously thinking about how much he already missed Lynn and how he didn't know if he would make it through the next two months.

He and Lynn had sat down the night before and compared their calendars. Not only did they have their respective school schedules to take into consideration, but also the different nations' holidays. Both Lynn's school and the police college started classes in two weeks – the day after Labor Day, to be precise, which was the same day in both countries. After that, the first date that they would both have off, not counting weekends, would be in October. It happened that Columbus Day in the United States fell on the same day as Canada's Thanksgiving Day. They had agreed that since Columbus Day was really nothing more than a day off of school or work for most Americans, Lynn included, she would come back to Canada to spend Thanksgiving with Greg and Dean.

Comparing their holidays, Greg and Lynn had realized that their Thanksgiving holidays were actually very similar, with the main purpose being for people to give thanks for the good things in their lives. The main difference, of course, was that there were no Pilgrims in Canada, but the same basic principle was behind both holidays. Lynn had been the first to mention that she definitely had something to be thankful for this year, and Greg was quick to agree.

At first, Greg had been concerned that the travel would put a financial strain on Lynn, but she had assured him that not only did she make a comfortable income from the school, she also had her husband's life insurance and a "benevolence package" that his company had paid her, which was basically what his pension would have been had he lived to retire. While she was far from rich, she still had enough money to make the occasional trip. Greg had his income from the college, which was substantially more than he had made at SRU, and so, he also had a decent amount of discretionary income.

He had managed to finally get control of himself at the airport, and to hold himself together on the way home, but as soon as he stepped inside and closed the door, he slid to the ground, back against the wood, and simply sat there, unable to move. He lowered his head into his hands, but no tears came; he seemed to have cried himself out. Eventually, he hauled himself to his feet and forced himself to go to the kitchen and get something to eat. He knew that no matter how badly he felt, he still had to take care of himself.

He made himself a sandwich and looked at the clock on the microwave. Lynn's plane had taken off about two hours ago, and he knew that it was a three and a half hour flight. The good thing was that, because she had gone through customs here in Canada, she would be considered a domestic passenger once she got to Denver. That would save her a lot of time, and she had promised to call him as soon as she landed.

He sat down at the table and slowly ate, not tasting anything, but knowing that his body needed the nutrition. After he finished and had cleaned up, he knew he had to find something to do until Lynn landed, so he decided to call Eddie. Sitting on the couch, he dialed the number.

The phone was answered after the first ring. "Hey, Greg, how are you doing?" Ed's voice clearly disclosed that he was very afraid for his best friend. He was a good profiler and had seen how Greg and Lynn had fallen for each other. He couldn't remember a time when he had seen Greg as happy as he was when he was with Lynn, not even during the best times with Marina, and he was seriously worried that Lynn's leaving might send him spiraling down into another depression.

Greg was grateful for his friend's obvious concern, but his tone was steady when he answered, "I'm all right, Eddie. I miss her terribly already, but I'll be fine."

"Mm hmm," Eddie responded, not sounding at all convinced. "Are you sure about that?"

"Positive," Greg said. "It hurts, buddy; I won't lie to you, it hurts like hell, but you don't have to be worried about me." He knew exactly what Ed was worried about, and he knew he had to put his mind at ease. "I am not going to do anything stupid." He took a deep breath. "It may be two months before she'll be back, but at least I know she's coming back."

"Two months?" There was a pause as Ed did the math in his head. "So she's coming back for Thanksgiving?"

"Yep, it's the same day as her Columbus Day, so we both get it off. She'll fly here Friday night and go back home Monday night. It's only a few days, but I'll take what I can get. We talked about going back and forth on the weekends, but we quickly figured out that we are both too busy while school is on, and neither of us is rich enough." Greg said the last with a small laugh which Ed was very glad to hear.

"Well, maybe one of you will win the lottery, and that last part would be taken care of," Ed chuckled.

Greg's smile was in his voice as he said, "That would be nice, but, that doesn't change how busy we both are. You know what my load is at the college; most of my Saturdays and Sundays are spent working on classroom stuff. Lynn told me that she tries to attend as many of her students' activities outside of school as possible, especially now that Rose is going to college, and a lot of them happen on the weekends. She feels that it helps her get to know the students better, and it lets them know that she really cares about them."

"Wow, that's dedication," Ed said, true respect in his words.

"I know. I told her that I wished more teachers felt that way about their kids, and she said that, while she can't force her teachers to spend their weekends with their students, most of them try to support something that the kids do outside of school, whether that is sports or music or whatever."

"That is truly awesome. Maybe she should start a school up here. We could definitely use more teachers with that mindset," Ed said. "While I know there are plenty of teachers who love their students, I also know there are too many who don't. Maybe it would help with the violence we see in schools if more kids really thought their teachers cared."

"Yeah, like Billy Dresden," Greg said softly. "I wonder if he would have turned out differently if more of his teachers had really gotten to know him. Maybe they would have noticed his depression and anger. Maybe he would have felt safe talking about what the other boys were doing to him. Maybe he would have felt safe talking about what his dad was doing to him." He shrugged, even though he knew Eddie couldn't see him. "We'll never know, but I think it could have made all the difference in the world."

"You might be right."

Greg heard Sophie call out in the background. Ed's voice was suddenly muffled as he put his hand over the phone. "Just a second, Soph, I'll be right there." He spoke into the phone again. "Listen, Greg, I've got to go."

"No worries, buddy, go to your beautiful wife. Give her a kiss for me, okay?"

"You got it, Greg. Bye."

"Bye." Greg hung up the phone and laid it on the coffee table. He picked up the remote and switched on the TV, noticing that there was still a little over an hour before Lynn would be able to call him. He decided to watch some mindless show to waste time until she did.

The first show had ended and the second had just begun when his phone rang. He snatched it up from the table while he muted the television, and a thrill ran through his body when he saw that it was Lynn.

"Lynn," he breathed into the phone, and then his throat closed up, and he couldn't talk.

"Hey, there," he heard her say softly.

He had to swallow and clear his throat before he was able to respond. "How…how was your flight?"

"It was fine," she said. "I just got off the plane."

"Well, I'm glad you made it safely," Greg responded, and he felt like an idiot. They were making small talk when what he really wanted to do was jump through the phone, grab Lynn, and never let her go again, telling her over and over how much he loved her.

"Greg? Are you still there?"

He must have been silent longer than he had thought.

"Yes, I'm here. But…"

"But what?"

Greg sighed heavily and dropped his head. "But I really wish I was there, Lynn. I miss you so much already." His voice caught, and he cleared it again.

"I know, my love," Lynn whispered roughly, "I miss you, too – more than I thought was possible. If I could, I'd jump right back onto another plane and come back to you."

Greg could hear the tears in her voice, and felt his own eyes begin to burn. He closed them and breathed deeply. "I wish you could, sweetheart," he managed.

"I know, but we both know that it's just not possible right now."

Greg clenched his teeth together with the fury that suddenly filled him. God, this was so unfair! He had finally found someone he could trust with his heart, and circumstances ripped it right out of his chest, just as she was ripped away from him by their obligations.

Lynn interrupted his mental raging. "Darling, I have to go; I see my kids waiting for me," she said, her words thick with regret and anguish and tears.

He forced himself to relax before answering; it would not be fair to spew his anger out at her. This was not her fault – it was no one's fault – it was just the way things were.

"All right, my love. Call me as soon as you get home, okay?" Greg knew that she still had over two hundred miles to drive before reaching Grand Junction, and he wanted to be sure she got there safely.

"Of course I will," she answered. "Greg?"

"Yes, baby?"

"I love you. With all that I am."

Greg fought down tears as he whispered back, "I love you, too. With all that I am."

Neither of them wanted to say goodbye, so they stayed silent for a few moments and then he disconnected the call.

Greg dropped the phone on the table and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. He felt as if he were drowning, and there was no one who could help him. He was going to have to fight his way to the surface of his sorrow alone; he knew he couldn't keep bothering Eddie about this. As much as his friend loved him, he had his own life to live, and Greg had to figure out how to deal with his pain on his own. He breathed deeply as he tried to calm down, and eventually, he dozed off into a restless slumber.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

After Lynn got safely home, she called Greg, but they were both so tired that the conversation only lasted a few minutes. They once again stated how much they missed each other, professed their love, and then disconnected.

Greg spent two weeks preparing for his classes at the college, and then courses began. When he arrived on campus the first Monday of classes, he could feel the excitement of the new students in the air and couldn't resist getting caught up in it himself. He quickly settled into the routine of the college, and he was so busy that the days flew by. He taught three courses: two in advanced negotiation techniques, and one in basic tactics. Dean was in one of his negotiation courses, and Greg was really appreciating teaching his son. He also had his responsibilities as Head Instructor. These included supervising all of the other instructors, especially the newer ones, and overseeing the physical requirements of the students. While he couldn't run the courses himself, he still felt a feeling of pride and accomplishment when a student beat a record or finished a task they had previously failed. After all, some of these young people would soon be policing his city shortly, and he was honored to be a part of their achievements.

It was the evenings that crept along.

Classes and meetings usually finished around four o'clock, and then Greg had about an hour of paperwork. He ate dinner in the college cafeteria, and then he went to his room in the faculty wing. The room wasn't much, rather like one in a decent hotel, but it was comfortable enough. The biggest problem was that the time in Toronto was two hours later than in Colorado. That meant that when Greg got to his room at six, it was still only four where Lynn was. She rarely got home before seven, so that meant he had three hours to waste. He spent a good portion of this time working out in the gym. Although he couldn't do everything he used to be able to, he still took pride in his appearance. One of the most disgraceful things he could think of was police officers who became complacent and let their bodies go to pot.

Greg had talked to his doctors extensively about which exercises he could do with the limitations on his leg. They said that he could not damage it further, but it simply would not have the range or strength it used to have. That actually heartened Greg to hear, and it was far from weak, so he simply modified his workouts to eliminate bikes and treadmills, instead using weights to work his legs. His upper body was still just as strong as it had always been, and he was proud of it. He rivaled many of the students when it came to strength, and, while he would never break any records, he was happy with the way things were – especially considering he was more than twice the age of most of the young people.

He could only work out so long, however, and so he had begun reading voraciously. He had never been much of a reader, but now he found that when he had a book that he enjoyed, he could easily get lost in it until it was time for Lynn to contact him. He really liked reading the classic authors, such as Fitzgerald, Hemingway, and Dickens, but he also rounded out his selections with non-fiction books on philosophy and current events.

Greg and Lynn had decided that she would be the one to initiate the contact each night, since she got off of work after him, and it was usually through Skype. Occasionally, she would be somewhere where she didn't have access to her computer, and on those nights it was a phone call, but that was rare. When the notification sound came from his computer, he would immediately drop whatever it was he was doing and quickly answer. Every time he saw her smiling face on his screen, he felt his heart tighten in his chest. He missed her desperately, and often told her so. She felt the same way, and, while they relished the discussions they had about their day and their friends and family, there was always an undercurrent of need and anguish beneath their words.

Their conversations lasted about two hours each night, and at the end, they left with what had become a signature farewell. They would each place their right hands over their hearts and then kiss the fingertips before placing them on the computer screens.

"I love you, Greg. With all that I am."

"And I love you, Lynn. With all that I am."

They would then close their screens together. They never said goodbye; it sounded too final.

He still drove to Toronto every Friday to meet with his friends, but the weekends were the worst. At least at the college, he had his work to occupy his time, but at home, there was nothing to do. His apartment was cleaner than it had been in years, and he had begun taking long walks around his neighborhood, but there were still far too many hours in the day. Lynn was much busier than he was on the weekends, and, although they spent hours on Skype, he still spent too much time staring at his walls, wishing she were with him. He truly looked forward to Mondays when he went back to the college, knowing that he would be too busy to constantly think about her.

Greg's days and nights followed this pattern for the next two months. Finally, it was the Friday before Thanksgiving, and he was standing in the Toronto airport, anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot. He was empty-handed, and for a long while earlier in the day, he had worried that Lynn would be disappointed that he hadn't brought her flowers or candy or something, but he had finally decided that he wanted his hands free when he saw her. He was sure that if he had brought something, it would have instantly ended up on the floor anyway.

He hadn't used his credentials to bypass protocol this time, and so he waited in the same area where he had taken Lynn when her kids came to town. It was eleven o'clock at night, but Greg felt as energized as if he had just woken up after the best night's sleep of his life. Lynn's plane had landed half an hour ago, and she should be almost through customs. Greg could have sworn that the people around him should have been able to feel the nervous energy he felt was radiating off of him. There was a surprisingly large number of people waiting for passengers, considering how late it was, and the waiting area was not very large; it was rather crowded.

The seconds dragged on until Greg saw the first passenger enter the waiting area. The man was obviously not expecting anyone, for he went straight to the baggage claim without even scanning the crowd with his eyes. One after another, passengers walked through the door, none of them Lynn, until Greg knew that he would burst with impatience. Just as he was about to pull out his badge and demand entrance to customs, he saw her.

She came through the glass door, took a few steps forward, and stopped. Greg felt his breath catch, and he could not move. She was wearing a calf-length, forest green dress, belted at the waist with a wide black belt, and sensible flats. Her legs were encased in tights, and she carried a long black coat over her arm, along with her purse. She had never looked so beautiful to him, and he allowed his eyes to roam over her body, devouring the sight of her. Her blue eyes scanned the crowd expectantly, and when they found Greg's, a smile quickly spread across her face.

The smile caused Greg to expel his breath with a huff, and his muscles once again obeyed his brain. He swiftly moved toward her, rudely elbowing past other people, until he was in front of her. His momentum carried him into her, and he wrapped his arms around her, swinging her into his arms, crushing his mouth to hers. Their lips parted instantly, and their tongues began a passionate dance. Lynn had dropped her coat and purse as Greg advanced on her, and now her hands roamed over his back and shoulders, grasping and caressing him desperately. Greg still held onto his cane with the hand that was around Lynn's waist, but his other hand was buried in her curls as he held her tightly to him. After what seemed like a lifetime that was too short, Greg broke the kiss and set Lynn back on her feet. He didn't release her, however, and, with them both breathing heavily, he let his hand gently caress her face as his eyes did the same. Lynn's hand came up to his chest as she looked at him, and he grabbed it, bringing it to his lips to softly kiss her palm. He then held it to him as he pulled her close with his other hand.

"God, I missed you so much!" he whispered harshly, closing his eyes as he rested his cheek on her curls, once again inhaling the scent that meant only her, savoring the feel of her against him. He immediately felt himself begin to react, but he didn't move; he only breathed deeply and drew her to himself even tighter.

Lynn didn't speak, but Greg could feel her nod against his chest. With her free hand, she clung to the back of his jacket.

Greg didn't know how long they stood like that, but when he finally opened his eyes, he saw that there were only a few people left in the waiting area. He took a deep breath, kissed the top of Lynn's head, and slowly backed away until he could look down into Lynn's face. He was devastated when he saw tears on her cheeks, and he brought his thumb up to wipe them away.

"Don't cry, darling," he said softly.

A smile crossed her face as she responded, "Don't worry, Greg," she responded, "these are happy tears."

Greg returned the smile gratefully, gave Lynn a quick but sensual kiss, and released her. She leaned down and picked up her coat and purse. With their arms around each other, they walked to the baggage claim to pick up her suitcase. Lynn put on her coat, and the two left the terminal. A cold wind hit them as the door opened, and Lynn caught her breath.

"Wow! I'm glad you told me to dress warmly. It's still fall in Grand Junction."

A chuckle escaped Greg as he responded, "It's still fall here. If you think this is cold, wait until January."

Lynn shuddered, and Greg wasn't sure if it was because of the idea of January in Canada or the blast of cold wind that blew past them at that moment. Either way, she was right; it was cold, and he quickly steered her toward the parking lot.

When they got in his car, as soon as he started the engine and heater, Greg could not resist leaning over and once again claiming Lynn's lips with his own. Now that they had more privacy, he let his hands roam more freely, and he felt a jolt at the moan Lynn released when he flicked his thumb across a nipple. Mouths still locked together, his hand traveled down her body until it reached her knee. He grunted with frustration when he realized her dress was too long for him to reach under it, and his eyes narrowed when Lynn laughed softly.

"Think that's funny, huh?" he growled.

"Actually," she said, still laughing, "I do." Her smile turned seductive as she reached over and placed her hand between Greg's legs, squeezing gently. "I seem to have much more access than you do."

"Oh, yeah?" he rumbled, sitting back in his seat and putting the car in drive. "We'll see about that."

He drove as quickly as possible back to his apartment, the process becoming more and more difficult as Lynn took advantage of her access to stroke and caress him until he felt as if he would go crazy. They made it to his door, leaving all of Lynn's things in the car, and Greg stood unlocking it with Lynn behind him, head on his back and both arms around him, still teasing him mercilessly. His hands would not work correctly, and it took him a few tries to get the key to do its job, but when it did, he flung open the door, trapped both of Lynn's hands against him, and dragged her inside. He instantly spun around, Lynn still trapped behind him, and kicked the door shut. He then turned around, dropped his cane, and grabbed her arms.

"I thought I told you before that wasn't nice." The words came from deep in his throat, and he slowly backed Lynn up until she was against the arm of the couch. He felt a shudder flow through her, but she simply smiled up at him.

"And I told you before that I wasn't trying to be nice." She leaned into him, raising her lips for a kiss.

Greg growled again and spun her around, placing one hand on her back. He pushed her forward until she was bending over the couch, and then he held her there as his other hand grabbed her dress at the back of her legs, slowly gathering it up until he had the hem. He pulled the dress up over her hips, and then let his hand descend to the junction between her legs. He used one foot to kick her feet apart, and he proceeded to fondle her over the tights. He grinned when she began to moan, and he quickly felt the fabric dampen.

He leaned down until his mouth was at her ear, never stopping his motions, and whispered provocatively, "Now who has all the access?"

Lynn's only reply was another groan, which increased as Greg took her earlobe between his teeth. He gently nibbled, moving from her ear to her neck, adding his tongue as he removed his hand from Lynn's back. The weight of his body kept her in place, however, and he reached down to release his belt and undo the fastenings on his slacks. They slid to the ground, and he stopped teasing her just long enough to pull down his underwear, followed by her tights and panties.

He rested himself between her legs, feeling her wetness and heat, his hands moving to her hips, and he whispered gruffly, "Tell me how much you want me, Lynn."

She let out a small cry before stammering, "Please, Greg! God, I need you so much! Please make love to me!"

Greg needed no more urging, and he entered her in one hard thrust. The cry that escaped Lynn's lips, and the feel of her around him, caused him to lose all control. He moved quickly, forcefully, grasping Lynn by one shoulder to give him greater leverage. He thrust into her, all gentleness gone, needing only the sound of her moans filling his ears and the feel of the friction that was building up between them. He felt her walls clench around him and heard her cry out, and he increased his speed until, with a loud roar, he threw his head back and emptied himself into her. He stood there for a long moment as he continued to spasm, and then he collapsed over Lynn, placing his hands on the seat cushion, trying to catch his breath.

After a while, Greg realized that Lynn was shaking slightly. He quickly stood up, pulling her with him, and turned her around. He was horrified to see that she was crying.

"Oh my God, Lynn, I didn't hurt you, did I?" He cursed his lack of self-control. He would never forgive himself if he had harmed her.

The smile that slowly formed calmed his fears somewhat, but it wasn't until she spoke that he released the breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"No, Greg, no."

"Then why are you crying?" He raised his hand to brush away the tears.

"Because that was so amazing. Everything feels right. I feel like I am right where I am supposed to be. Greg, I feel like I am home."

Greg softly gathered her into his arms. He turned around until he was seated on the arm of the couch, and pulled her onto his lap. They were both still half undressed, but he didn't care. He drew her to his chest and held her tightly, taking deep breaths to try to calm his racing heart. Her words had inflamed some powerful emotions in him – love, above all, but also joy and hope. One of his greatest fantasies late at night was when he asked her to stay in Toronto permanently, and she said yes. Her statement made him think that fantasy actually had a chance of coming true.

They stayed in that position until he realized that Lynn was drifting off to sleep. He chuckled, and this caused her to raise her head and look at him.

"What's so funny?" she said petulantly, her bottom lip sticking out slightly in a pout.

Greg laughed again and bent down to capture that lip between his. He gently sucked until she responded by kissing him back. This kiss was everything a kiss should be between two people who loved each other wholeheartedly – tender, caring, and yet still passionate.

He leaned back and said, "I think it's time to go to bed."

Lynn's eyes went wide as she realized she had almost fallen asleep on his lap, and then she smiled. "I think you're right." Then she frowned slightly.

"What is it?"

"All my stuff is still in the car," she said.

"Well," he responded, kicking off his shoes, pants, and boxers before standing up, placing Lynn on her feet.. "I don't mind if you wear something of mine to bed, or, better yet, nothing at all. I can get your things in the morning."

He watched as she removed her own shoes and then bent down to take off her tights and panties. Dropping them on the floor, she reached up to pull his head down for a kiss.

"I think that is a wonderful idea," she said sleepily, and, taking him by the hand, led him into his bedroom.

"Which one," he laughed, "something or nothing?"

"Nothing," she said shortly. "As long as that applies to you, as well, of course."

"Of course," he responded, and they proceeded to make it so before she climbed into bed.

"Are you sure you don't want to clean up first?" he asked, standing next to the bed.

"Too tired," she mumbled, grabbing his hand and pulling him down.

Greg smiled as he slid under the covers and gathered her to him. She sighed deeply and rested her head on his chest, falling asleep almost instantly. Greg was also tired, but he forced himself to stay awake, listening to Lynn breathe, feeling her warm breath on his chest, delighting in the weight of her body next to his. His last conscious thought before sleep claimed him was that he agreed with Lynn – this was right.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Greg woke slowly the next morning, his mind not quite comprehending why he felt so good. As the fog of sleep dissipated, however, he remembered the beautiful woman in his bed. Once again, having her with him had allowed him to sleep deeply, dreamlessly, and contentedly. He was lying on his side facing her, and he raised himself up onto his elbow, head in hand, and gazed at the vision next to him.

Lynn was on her back with her face turned toward him, eyes closed, lips parted slightly, breathing deeply. The blankets had slipped down, barely exposing the tops of her breasts. She had one arm resting across her chest, on the covers, and the other was tucked beneath her head. Her golden curls were in disarray, spread out around her head on the pillow, and one strand had fallen across her face. Greg reached over and gently tucked it behind her ear, being careful not to wake her up. Once his fingertips made contact with her skin, though, he felt an overwhelming desire to continue touching her.

He tenderly traced her face from her temple down to her jawline, barely skimming the surface of her skin. His path followed her jaw to her chin, and he raised his thumb to graze her bottom lip. He felt her warm breath on his hand, and then he continued his caress. He brushed his fingers down her neck, across her collarbone to her shoulder. He replaced his fingertips with his palm as he gently stroked her shoulder and then moved down her arm, finishing with her hand. He returned to fingertips as he traced the back of her hand and fingers.

He stilled his motions when Lynn moaned softly and rolled over onto her side so that she was facing away from him. Her hair fell over her face, and Greg smiled. He scooted closer to her until he fit his body around hers, and then he reached his arm around her waist to hold her gently to him. He used his other hand to move her hair back from her neck and lowered his mouth to the spot just behind her ear. He suckled the skin tenderly, which caused Lynn to squirm and moan again. He caught her earlobe between his teeth as he felt her cover the hand on her stomach with her own, and, when he heard her inhale sharply, he chuckled.

"Good morning," he whispered, his mouth still at her ear.

"Hmm," she murmured. She rolled over to face him and her blue eyes locked with his brown ones as she smiled at him. "Good morning."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Very well, thank you." The smile on her face was also in her voice, and she leaned into him to bring her mouth to his. Their kiss was tender, almost chaste, but Greg still found it to be incredibly sexy. He sighed peacefully and drew her to him. They lay there in each other's arms for a long while without speaking, simply enjoying being together again.

"Greg?"

"Mm hmm?" He felt too lazy to actually talk.

"I think we'd better get up. I really need to take a shower."

A small groan escaped Greg; he didn't want to move. He knew she was right, though, and he regretfully released her and slid out from under the covers to sit on the edge of the bed. Lynn came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him, her hands on his chest. She placed quick kisses on his neck and shoulders, and then pulled away to climb out of bed. She looked around and let out a short laugh.

Greg looked at her. "What's so funny?"

"You still have to get my stuff out of the car."

Greg groaned again, louder this time, causing Lynn to snicker. "I suppose I should put some clothes on first, eh?"

This brought forth a full laugh. "I think your neighbors would probably appreciate it, yes."

He let out a huff and stood. "I'm glad you find this so amusing. Fine. Go take your shower; I'll have your things here when you get out," and he moved to his dresser to pull out a T-shirt and pair of sweats. He had slipped them on and was walking out the door when Lynn's voice stopped him.

"I love you, Greg."

He smiled as he turned to her. She was still naked, standing in the doorway to the bathroom, and he let his eyes travel from her head to her feet and back again before answering.

"With all that I am, my love," and he left the room.

On his way to the door, he gathered up the clothes scattered on the living room floor and brought them back to the bedroom, placing them in a pile in the corner of the room. Then he hung both of their overcoats on the rack near the front door, and propped his cane up underneath it.

When he got back from the car, she was still in the shower, so he set her suitcase on the bed and went into the kitchen. He started the coffee maker and then he washed his hands and went to the refrigerator to take out eggs, cheese, shallots, mushrooms, and a top round steak. He proceeded to defat the steak and chop it into small cubes. Then he prepared the other ingredients for an omelet. He pulled a skillet out of the cupboard next to him, put in a little olive oil, and let it heat. When it was ready, he added the shallots and mushrooms, sautéing them until the shallots were slightly translucent, and then he added the steak and some spices. As he started to brown the steak, he noticed that the shower had stopped. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sipped it while he cooked the meat. A little while later, he heard a chair scrape on the dining room floor.

"Lynn?"

"Yes?" her voice came from the next room.

Greg took a deep breath, knowing that he was about to break one of his own cardinal rules. He never let anyone watch while he cooked, never, but even though she was close, she was still too far away.

"Will you do me a favor?"

"Of course, what is it?"

"Come and keep me company."

There was a pause, and then Greg heard the chair slowly scrape across the floor again. There was no sound from Lynn, even when she stood in the doorway and leaned against the jamb.

"Is this a test?" she asked incredulously. "I know your rule."

"I know you do," he responded, "and I'm asking you to break it." He looked at her and almost forgot about cooking. Her hair was still wet from the shower, and her damp curls spread across her shoulders. She was wearing an ankle-length, long-sleeve blue dress, cinched at the waist with a white belt. She was barefoot, but that only made her more sexy to Greg.

"Wow, you look great!" he said and then glanced down at his own clothes.

Lynn laughed at the frown that creased his brow. "Well, I did have a chance to clean up." She ran her gaze down his body and smirked. "Can't say the same for you."

"Ha, ha, very funny." Greg's frown deepened, and he became serious. "Should I shower before we eat?"

She shrugged. "If you like. I don't mind either way."

Greg really did want to shower, but he didn't know how to do it without ruining the food. Then he had an idea.

"Could you get me a ceramic pan out of that cupboard over there, please?" He gestured with the spatula as he turned the oven on to preheat.

Lynn gasped and brought a hand to her breast. "Are you actually giving me permission to enter your domain, sir?"

"But of course, ma'am," Greg stepped away from the stove and gave Lynn an extravagant bow, "what is mine is yours."

"You are too kind, sir," she responded as she dropped a curtsy, and then she laughed heartily as she walked to the cupboard and pulled out the pan that Greg had requested.

He smiled his thanks and took it, coating it with non-stick spray before scooping the meat and shallots into it, adding the beaten eggs, and covering the whole thing with shredded cheese.

"Now," he said, wiping his hands on a towel and turning to Lynn, "the oven will ding when it is preheated. Can you please put this in and set the timer for 20 minutes when it is ready?"

"Wow," Lynn said seriously, "you really do trust me, don't you?"

Greg was a little startled at this thought. He hadn't ever let anyone watch him cook before, much less help him. "Yes, I guess I do." He smiled and gave Lynn a quick kiss before walking out of the kitchen.

As he stood in the shower, he thought about what he had planned for the day. Thanksgiving was two days away, and he and Lynn had agreed that they wanted to spend it here at the apartment. Dean would be coming home from college Sunday night, and the three of them would then have Thanksgiving dinner together Monday afternoon. After that, they would only have a few hours left until Lynn had to fly home. Greg closed his eyes at the thought and silently cursed their situation. Knowing that he only had a few more days with Lynn was killing him, but he couldn't see a viable solution. Neither of them wanted to leave their jobs, and neither wanted to leave their friends and family. Greg suddenly slammed his fist against the tile. "Damn!" he snarled.

He took a deep breath and turned off the water. His hand hurt now, but he forced himself to ignore it. As he toweled off, he tried to think of a resolution to their problem, but he came up empty. He sighed and pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind, determined to instead make this weekend perfect for himself, Lynn, and Dean. He quickly dressed in khakis and a dark blue oxford, leaving his feet bare for the moment, before walking back to the kitchen.

Lynn was leaning against the counter, reading one of his cookbooks. He looked at the timer. There were five minutes left, so he opened the refrigerator and pulled out orange juice and milk. He set them on the counter and reached up to the cupboard next to Lynn to get glasses and plates.

"Greg," Lynn said, not looking up from the book, "do you already have Thanksgiving dinner planned?"

"A little," he replied, retrieving silverware from a drawer.

"Do we have to have turkey?"

"Not necessarily," he said, looking at her quizzically. "Why do you ask?"

She put the book back and helped him carry things to the table. "Because there is a fabulous recipe for Cornish game hens in that cookbook. I thought it would be a nice alternative to turkey, especially considering there will only be three of us. Besides, we will be having turkey next month when you come down for my Thanksgiving."

"Hmm," he mused, "that's not a bad idea."

The timer went off, and as Greg pulled the pan out of the oven and tested the casserole with a knife, Lynn poured him another cup of coffee. She picked up a trivet and went into the dining room, Greg following with the pan.

After they were seated, they filled their plates and began to eat.

"Wow, Greg, this is fantastic!" Lynn gushed as she took a bite.

"Thank you." He smiled at the compliment. "But you helped too, you know."

"Yeah, right. I watched a clock."

"Well, you didn't let it burn," he said, his smile growing.

"True," she said, returning the smile. "Of course, there wasn't exactly time for it to burn, was there?"

"No, I suppose not," he chuckled. "But I do appreciate you giving me the chance to shower."

"Yes," she said, looking at him appraisingly, "I must say that you look much better. Downright sexy, even."

"Ha! I will easily say the same about you, my dear, and I would have to say that I would be the more accurate one in doing so."

"Well, that would depend on one's perspective. wouldn't it?" Lynn winked at him before focusing on her meal. Greg watched her for a moment before starting in on his own.

When they were finished eating, Lynn stood at the sink rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, and Greg was busy putting away leftovers in the fridge. He finished just before she did, and he stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back into him. Her hair was now dry, and he inhaled deeply of her scent. She rinsed the sink and then relaxed in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

"So," she said softly, "what are your plans for today?"

"Mmm," he murmured, nuzzling her neck, "I don't really have any. We could just stay here all day."

She turned in his arms and placed her arms around his shoulders. "We could, I suppose, but we are all dressed up." Greg glanced at their feet and then raised his eyebrows. "All right," she conceded, wiggling her toes, "mostly dressed up."

He smiled as he leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips. "Well, if we finish dressing up, we could always go to the theater. I don't know what shows are on right now, but I'm sure we could find something we'd like."

Lynn inhaled deeply as her eyes went wide. "Really? That would be fantastic!"

Greg chuckled as he led her into the living room. She sounded almost like a child when she got excited about something. It made Greg feel good to know that he could do something to make her feel that way.

The newspaper from the day before was on the coffee table, and they sat on the couch as Greg flipped to the entertainment section. Lynn looked over his shoulder and actually squealed when she saw that "Cats" was currently playing at the Panasonic Theatre.

"Oh, Greg, I've never seen 'Cats,' but I've always wanted to! Can we go?" She laid her head on his shoulder and looked up at him. "Pretty please with sugar on top?"

Her plea made him burst out laughing, and when he finally controlled himself, he looked at the listing in the paper. There was a one thirty showing, and so he pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number for the theater.

A pleasant female voice answered quickly, "Good morning, Panasonic Theatre box office. How may I help you?"

"Yes, I was wondering if there were still tickets available for this afternoon's showing of 'Cats.'"

"Yes, sir, there are. How many are you looking for?"

He smiled at Lynn as he answered, "Two, please." He was amused to see her actually clap her hands softly.

"Well, sir, we have tickets that range in price from $150 to $450 each."

"Are any of those orchestra seating?"

"Yes, sir, we have many seats left in the orchestra section."

"Fine, I'd like two seats as close to center stage as possible, please." It was times like these that Greg was happy that he had learned how to live frugally. He had been able to save a good portion of each paycheck from the college, and he very rarely dipped into those savings. Now was going to be one of those times.

"Very good, sir. May I have your payment information, please?"

Greg stood up and went into his bedroom to retrieve his wallet. After giving the woman all of his information, he hung up and went back into the living room. Sitting down next to Lynn, he took her hand. "We have two seats, in the center orchestra section, ten rows back from the stage, for the one thirty show."

"Oh, Greg, thank you!" Lynn threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his. He held her tightly as her mouth opened to admit his tongue, and they kissed passionately, Greg cradling Lynn's head in one hand while caressing her back with the other. When they broke the kiss, Greg pulled her close and tried to calm his breathing.

"You know, if we continue to do that, we just might miss the show," he said huskily.

"Oh, no, we won't," Lynn protested, and she pulled back and smiled seductively at him. "But I definitely want to show you my appreciation later."

"I'll hold you to that." Greg cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "Okay, then," he managed, "we'd better get ready." They had woken up quite late, and it was now almost noon. The theater was a twenty-minute drive away, and Greg wanted to make sure to get there in plenty of time to park and get to their seats before the show started.

"You're right!" Lynn jumped up off the couch and pulled him with her as she hurried to the bedroom. She had much more to do than he did, so, after he changed into black slacks and put on his socks and shoes, he sat on the bed and watched, amused, as she scurried from her suitcase to the bathroom and back again numerous times. It had always amazed him what women went through to make themselves ready to go out. For him, it pretty much consisted of brushing what little hair he had, putting on a little cologne, and making sure he had his keys and cell phone. Lynn, on the other hand, spent a good forty-five minutes just getting her hair and make-up ready. He had to admit, however, that the time was well-spent. When she walked out of the bathroom for the last time, he caught his breath at her beauty. She saw his reaction and did a slow turn, spreading her arms wide.

"Do you approve?"

"Definitely," he breathed. He stood up slowly and placed his hands gently on her hips. She had put on white pumps that were high enough that she could almost look him in the eyes, and whatever female magic she had worked had made her eyes absolutely mesmerizing. He ran one hand gently down her curls and then drew her to him for a tender kiss before releasing her and picking up the black jacket lying on the bed. She took it from him and held it as he slipped his arms into the sleeves, and then they walked to the front door. He took her overcoat off of its hook and held it for her before putting on his own coat and grabbing his cane.

The drive to the theater took a little longer than he had expected due to the weekend holiday traffic, and by the time they parked and got into the theater, there was only about ten minutes left until the show started. Greg got the tickets from Will Call, and then he took Lynn's coat from her before removing his own and taking them both to the coat check. He then offered her his arm, which she gratefully took, and they began to walk toward the door that led to the orchestra seating section. He noticed that some other men watched Lynn as he escorted her past them, and he felt a sense of pride at the thought that she chose to be with him.

He showed the tickets to an usher, and Lynn gasped softly as he led them to their seats, "Greg, how much did these tickets cost you?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he heard her. He smiled at her words and slipped his hand into hers as he helped her maneuver her way past the patrons already seated. As they sat, she turned to him, placing her hand on his arm. "Well?"

He covered her hand with his and leaned in closely. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek before whispering, "Not more than I can afford, darling, don't worry. Now sit back, and enjoy the show."

Lynn looked at him skeptically for a moment, and then she seemed to accept his words as true, for she settled down in her seat, entwined her arm in his, and grasped his hand.

From the moment the curtain rose until the last curtain call, Lynn's eyes never left the stage. Greg's did, however, and he spent a good portion of his time watching her watch the show. She was completely entranced, and the emotions on her face ran from excitement to sorrow and everything in between. He had actually seen "Cats" before, so he was much more interested in her. At the end, while the audience was standing for the final ovation, she finally turned to him, smiling, and he saw tears glistening in her eyes.

"Thank you, Greg." She reached down and took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"You are more than welcome, my love. I am glad you enjoyed it." He squeezed back and leaned in to giver her a quick peck on the cheek before leading her to the aisle and then to the theater lobby.

They collected their coats and walked outside, where the late-afternoon sun had already disappeared behind the buildings surrounding the theater, dulling all of the city's colors into muted grays. Greg took a deep breath, savoring the smells of the city he loved, and then he turned to Lynn.

"Are you hungry?"

"Actually, I am," she replied. "Do you have someplace in mind?"

"Well, I've never been to this theater before; but I just noticed that there is a pub right there," and he pointed next door to the theater. "I may not be able to drink, but pubs often have great food, especially ones that cater to theater folk."

"Theater folk? Is that what we are now?" Humor was evident in her voice, and her eyebrows rose comically.

"Absolutely," he said, trying not to laugh. "So let's go join the others and talk Broadway."

Lynn did laugh at that, and the two walked into the pub, taking a seat at a small table by the window. A waitress came over and gave them menus, and after a short perusal, Greg ordered a burger and fries, and Lynn ordered a fish basket. The waitress asked them if they wanted their fries poutinized, and Lynn looked quizzically at Greg. He answered for the both of them in the negative, and when the girl left, Lynn asked, "What in the heck is 'poutinized?'"

"It means adding brown gravy and cheese curds to your fries, and while, I'd say, the majority of Canadians love it, I don't, and I thought it best for you not to try it out with an entire order. It's best if you try it for the first time with someone else's order so that if you don't like it, you haven't wasted anything. I'll make sure we go out with Eddie sometimes. He loves them." He then realized that he had assumed she wouldn't want them, and he felt a little guilty. "I'm sorry, Lynn, I should have asked you before declining." He looked around for the waitress. "I can change the order if you'd like."

Lynn put her hand on Greg's arm, bringing his attention back to her. "No, Greg, that's fine. I'm really in the mood for regular fries anyway. I'll try them some other time; like you said, with Eddie, maybe."

They spent the next hour or so talking and eating their food, which had indeed turned out to be quite good. Their conversation was relaxed and pleasant, the topics ranging from how the weather had been in their respective cities to upcoming events at their schools. By the time they left and started to walk the few blocks to the parking garage, darkness had fallen.

They continued their talk, completely absorbed in each other, as they turned the corner into the garage. They had just gotten beyond the unmanned ticket booth when Greg heard a click, and he snapped his head forward as a man in a black hoodie and blue jeans stepped out of the shadows and pointed a five-inch switchblade at them.


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Lynn cried out, and Greg immediately pushed her behind him. The man was standing only a couple of steps in front of them, and Greg's instincts instantly kicked in. He quickly glanced around the dark garage for other subjects. There was only one other car besides his on this level, and he couldn't see any other person. Of course, there were many shadows that he couldn't see into, but there was nothing he could do about that.

"Give me your money!"

The voice cracked, and Greg suddenly realized that this man was actually a child. A tall child, to be sure, but as he looked closer, he thought the boy might only be about thirteen or fourteen years old. His hood was pulled low over his face, so Greg couldn't get a very good look at him, but he was sure he was not any older than that. As they stood there, the knife shook slightly, and the boy took a shaky breath, and Greg's gut told him that this boy was probably not committing this crime by choice. Someone, somewhere, was forcing him to, possibly as a gang initiation. His clothes - the black, oversized hoodie, the sagging blue jeans, the basketball shoes - strengthened that belief.

Lynn was clutching Greg's shoulder tightly with both hands, her breathing fast and shallow, and he could feel her shaking. With his right arm holding her behind him, Greg raised his left hand in front of him, opening it just enough to show that he meant no harm without letting go of his cane. "Take it easy, son, stay calm. You don't want to do something you'll regret later."

"Shut up!" the boy screeched, raising the knife a little higher. "Just give me your wallet!"

"All right, calm down." He let go of Lynn so that he could reach into his jacket as he lowered his cane back to the ground. She moved closer to him so that he could feel her whole body pressed closely to his, the shaking intensifying. He wished he could comfort her, but he knew his focus had to be on the boy right now. "What's your name, son?"

The question seemed to catch the boy by surprise. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Greg with suspicion. "Why?"

"Just wondering," he said, watching him closely as he pulled out his wallet. "You know, if you're in some kind of trouble, I might be able to help."

Greg held out the wallet, but the boy stood there indecisively. Then he took one step closer to Greg, the knife wavering a little.

"How can you help?" he said softly, looking around as if afraid to see someone in the shadows of the garage.

"Well, I'm a police officer, and..."

"You're a cop?" the boy yelped. "Oh, man!" He took a step back and began shaking his head. "Oh, man!"

"Calm down, son, it'll be all right," Greg said soothingly, knowing that if the boy got too agitated, he might accidentally hurt them or himself. He saw that the boy was not paying attention to him anymore, and he quickly slipped his wallet into his front pants pocket.

"How can it be all right?" the boy demanded. "I just mugged a cop!"

"You haven't done anything yet that can't be put right, son." Greg knew that the fact the boy hadn't run was a good sign; perhaps some good could still come out of this. "Let me help you."

"How?" The boy's voice rose even higher, and Greg could see that he was starting to lose control. "You can't help me! No one can help me!" He suddenly became very still, and his eyes grew cold; Greg could see him thinking. He pointed the knife at Greg and Lynn again; he had been waving it around frantically as panic had started to sink in, but now he seemed deadly calm. "Maybe I should just kill you. Then no one would know it was me except DJ. Yeah, he'll leave me alone when he finds out I killed a cop..." he leered and looked at Lynn, who had buried her face in Greg's shoulder at these words, "...and his woman."

Greg raised his empty hand in a gesture of placation. "Now, son, think this through. Right now, you're still at a point where you can have a life. You become a murderer, and your life will be over. I can help you if you'll let me."

His calm words seemed to slowly penetrate the boy's mind. The roller coaster emotions caused the boy's eyes to fill with tears, and the knife began to dip toward the ground.

"That's right, son, why don't you just put the knife down? Then we can talk, and I'll see what I can do to help protect you from DJ." Greg had no idea who this DJ person was, but he suspected he was a local gang leader trying to recruit this child. The thought made his blood boil; if there was one thing that infuriated him, it was people who enriched themselves at the cost of the innocent.

"Really?" The word was whispered, but Greg still heard it.

"Really," he said softly. "Now, put the knife down, please."

The knife abruptly clattered to the asphalt, and Greg reached his foot out to kick it away. It skittered across the asphalt and came to rest next to a pillar about twenty feet away. He tried to take a step toward the boy to make sure he didn't run, but Lynn prevented him from moving. The boy just sank to the ground, though, and buried his face in his hands. Greg reached behind him and tried to pull Lynn off of him without taking his eyes off of the boy.

"Lynn, sweetheart, it's okay, it's over. But you have to let go," he whispered, but he felt her shaking her head against his back. "Please, Lynn, I have to deal with this boy." He kept his voice low. "I have to make sure he doesn't run away."

She loosened her grasp just enough for him to take a step forward and place his right hand on the boy's shoulder. He kept a firm grip on him and then spoke to Lynn in a calm, steady voice, knowing that by doing so, it would help her calm down, too. His cell phone was in his inside left pocket, and Greg couldn't reach it without releasing the boy.

"Darling, I need you to take out your cell phone, dial 911, and hand it to me. Do you think you can do that?"

He heard her take a shuddering breath and then felt her let go with one hand. There were sounds of rummaging as she searched through her purse and then beeping as she dialed. He held his cane out behind him, and she took it from him, placed the phone in his hand, and returned her hand to the back of his jacket, still holding his cane.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"This is Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker, badge number 213. I'm in the parking garage just south of the Panasonic Theatre. My girlfriend and I have just been the victims of a mugging, but everything is under control. I have the subject in custody, and there are no injuries."

"Yes, sir, I'll send a cruiser immediately. Were there any weapons involved?"

"Yes, a knife, but it is no longer a threat."

"Very good, sir, please stay on the line with me until the officers arrive."

"Of course," Greg said simply. "I'm going to hand the phone to my girlfriend so that I can search the subject," and he held the phone out behind him and he heard his cane clatter to the ground as she took it from him, her other hand never loosening. Greg knew he couldn't search the boy with Lynn still clinging to him, so he gently said, "Lynn, darling, I need you to move back a bit, okay? I need you to be safe."

He glanced over his shoulder at her, but could only see the top of her head. "Please, sweetheart, I promise it will be okay. Just let go and step back a little."

The grip she had on his jacket released slowly, and he heard her take a few steps back. He glanced over his shoulder again and saw that she was standing stiffly, one arm wrapped around her body, the other hand holding the phone to her ear, head bowed.

Greg's heart was breaking as he looked back down at the boy. He wanted so desperately to enfold Lynn in his arms and never let her go again, but he also had his duty as a police officer. He focused his attention on that duty, no matter how much his heart and his head screamed at him to do otherwise.

"Son, I need you to stand up, okay? I need to search you to make sure you're not carrying anything else I should worry about."

The boy raised his head, and Greg saw tears streaming down his face, but he nodded and stood up.

"Is there anyone else around here I need to know about?"

"No, sir," the boy murmured.

Greg nodded and walked him a few feet away from Lynn to a wall.

"All right, now put your hands on the wall and spread your feet."

The boy did as Greg requested, and the pat-down was quickly completed. Greg didn't find anything else, and he put his hand on the boy's shoulder to turn him around. holding him against the wall as he looked him in the eye.

"What's your name, son?"

"Wallace." The word was said so softly that Greg barely heard it. Wallace was looking at his hands which were wringing together nervously.

"Wallace, do you want to tell me what happened here?"

The tears hadn't stopped, and now the boy tried to talk through the sobs that were wracking his body. "I...I owed him so much money! He...he said...he said he'd kill me if...if I didn't pay him back!"

"All right, all right, it'll be okay." Greg patted the boy's shoulder. He looked at Lynn and saw that she must have heard the boy's last words because she was looking at him, and although there was still naked fear in her eyes, there was also a hint of compassion, even as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. It was killing him not to be able to hold her right now, but he spoke again to Wallace.

"What do you mean you owed him money? Owed who money? DJ?"

"Yeah. I was caught with some of his coke a few months ago. I was, uh, holding it for him, and, since it was my first offense, I only got probation, but the cops took the coke. DJ didn't care, though, and he told me that I owed him the money I lost him by getting caught."

"How much?"

"I had 50 grams on me, so DJ says I owe him five grand, or he'll kill me."

Greg sighed; so many children's lives were being ruined by drugs, and he knew that there was little the police or government could do about it. For every drug dealer they arrested, two more popped up on the street corners. For every mule like Wallace they took off the street, three more seemed to take his place.

"Wallace, who's DJ?" If they could get this DJ, maybe Wallace would get a lighter sentence.

The boy swallowed before answering, "He's my brother."

That was not the answer Greg expected at all, and a white-hot fury flowed through him. The thought that someone would make a child be a drug mule had always enraged him, but a brother? That made him feel physically ill.

As Wallace finished, the sound of sirens was heard, and Greg could see the red and blue lights reflecting off of the ticket booth. Lynn hung up the phone and put it in her purse as a cruiser entered the garage and stopped a few yards from them. The siren was shut off, and two constables stepped out of the car and walked toward them.

"Sergeant Parker? Everything okay here?" Greg knew the speaker; his name was Donahue, and he had been in one of Greg's negotiation classes last term. He was twenty-three years old, almost six feet tall, with short-cropped brown hair and intense blue eyes. Greg remembered that his career goal was to be accepted into the SRU, which was why he had taken the class. The other officer, who was a little shorter than Donahue, also had brown hair and blue eyes, but looked to be a little older. He was unknown to Greg.

"Everything is fine, Constable Donahue," he replied as he gently put his hands on Wallace's shoulders and walked him toward the officers. "This young man simply made a bad decision tonight."

Wallace's chin was on his chest, but his sobs had stopped. As Donahue turned him around to place him in cuffs, Greg continued. "I already searched him; he's clean, but there's a switchblade over there," and he pointed to his right to where the knife had landed after he had kicked it. Donahue's partner quickly went to the knife and picked it up between two fingers, bringing it back to the car.

Greg immediately walked over to Lynn, who hadn't moved, and he gently took her in his arms. Her arms instantly encircled him, and she held him tightly. "Shh, it's all right now; I've got you. It's all over." He caressed her hair as he continued to whisper soothing words until the second officer came over to them.

"Sergeant Parker? I'm Constable Williams. We need you to come down to the station on Parliament and make an official statement," he said, almost apologetically.

Greg nodded and replied, "Of course. We'll follow you there soon."

"Yes, sir, take your time," the constable said, understanding in his voice, and he walked back to the cruiser where his partner was placing Wallace in the back seat.

As the police car pulled past them, lights and sirens off, circled around, and left the garage, Greg was finally able to turn his attention fully to Lynn. He pushed her back so that he could see her face. She kept her head bowed, but he gently placed his hand under her chin and drew it up to search her eyes. "Lynn, are you all right?"

She nodded and attempted a smile, but her lips just quivered, and she drew in a shaky breath before shaking her head. "I don't think so, Greg." Her eyes shimmered, and when she spoke, Greg could barely hear her. "I was just so scared! And then you couldn't hold me, and...and..." She stopped, and Greg pulled her to him again, planting gentle kisses on her curls.

He was glad she had said "couldn't" instead of "wouldn't," for that told him she understood his actions, but it still felt like a physical blow to his chest to know that, when she had needed him the most, he hadn't been able to comfort her. He held her now, though, and, as he murmured comfortingly, he felt her begin to relax a little. When her breathing was almost normal, he pulled back.

"Sweetheart, we have to go now."

She looked up at him and nodded. Greg leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her lips and then held her tightly to his side as he picked up his cane and led her to the car. He held the door for her and heard the lock engage immediately after he shut it. He walked around to his door, unlocked it, and slid into the driver's seat. It was now about six thirty in the evening, and it could take a while for their statements to be taken. He dreaded the necessity of going to the station right now, but the alternative would be to wait until the next day, and, in his mind, that was not an option. He wanted Lynn to have a full day to try and come to terms with what had just happened before the holiday.

As they drove to the station, which was only about two miles away, Lynn held tightly to Greg's hand, and, when they arrived, she again grasped it as soon as she stepped out of the car.

"We won't see him, will we?" Greg heard the fear that was still in her voice.

"No, darling, we're just going to tell them what happened." He didn't tell her that he would be coming back after she left to talk with Wallace some more. There was something about the boy that tugged at Greg's heart, and he vowed to follow through on his promise to help him as much as he could, but he didn't think that Lynn would be too receptive to the idea just yet, in spite of the compassion he had seen in her eyes earlier.

They walked into the station lobby, and, since it was still early evening, the place was bustling. They approached the counter, and Greg told the constable sitting there who he was.

"Yes, sir," the officer said immediately, "I was told you'd be coming. Detective Connors is waiting for you in the bullpen."

"Great, thanks, I know where it is." Greg had worked at the 51st Division when he first joined the service, and being here again brought back memories, some good, but mostly bad. He couldn't wait to get out of there.

He led Lynn to the bullpen, and saw the detective right away. He was seated at his desk, looking through a folder, and he looked up as Greg knocked on the top.

"Sergeant Gregory Parker! I heard you were stopping by. Too bad it's not just for old times' sake, huh?"

Detective Conners was a few years younger than Greg, and when he stood up, he towered over Greg and Lynn. He was six feet, seven inches tall with wavy blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He stuck his hand out, and Greg shook it heartily. Many of his good memories about this place centered around Thomas Connors.

Tom had been his first rookie when he was still a patrol officer, and, after Greg made it to Homicide, it was only a year and a half before Tom joined him there. They were partners for the three and a half years Greg stayed, and they had talked occasionally since then, but not often enough.

"Tom, good to see you." He turned to Lynn. "This is my girlfriend, Lynn Mitchell. Lynn, this is Thomas Connors, my old partner."

Lynn shook Tom's hand, but didn't say anything. Tom's eyebrows rose at that, but he smiled and said politely, "Nice to meet you, Lynn. I wish it could have been under better circumstances. Please, have a seat." He motioned to two chairs in front of his desk.

As they sat, Greg asked, "Why are you involved with this, Tom? I thought you were still in Homicide."

"I am," Tom replied. "When your subject was fingerprinted, there was a match to a crime scene from six months ago. Two people were shot to death in their home during a robbery."

Lynn sucked in a quick breath, and both men looked at her. Greg reached his hand over to take hers, and he found that it was slick with sweat. He gently squeezed it and asked, "Are you all right?"

She just nodded, and Tom went on, drawing Greg's gaze back to him, "It looks like the kid might have been involved in the murders."

Greg looked down at the floor and shook his head. He hadn't gotten that impression from Wallace, and his instincts about people were rarely wrong. He looked up at Tom and frowned. "Are you sure?"

"We're not sure of anything. All we know is that he had been in that house at some time prior to or during the robbery. We haven't even begun to check for connections yet." He gave Greg a small smirk. "We just processed him about half an hour ago, you know. I haven't even questioned him."

"Of course," Greg replied, inwardly hoping there was some logical explanation about why Wallace was at that house. He had been fooled by people before, but he really didn't feel like that was the case here. He couldn't say why, but that's how it was.

"Anyway," Tom interrupted his thoughts, "why don't you tell me what happened tonight?"

Greg proceeded to describe the events in the parking garage as Tom wrote down his words. Lynn did not participate at all; she simply held onto Greg's hand and stared at the papers on the top of Tom's desk, but when Greg got to the point where Wallace had threatened to kill them, she squeezed Greg's hand tightly. He looked at her with concern, but she never raised her eyes from the desk. He placed his free hand on her arm and, as quickly as possible, finished up with the details. When he was done, Tom asked Greg to read the statement and sign it. Then he looked at Lynn.

"Ms. Mitchell, do you have anything to add?"

Lynn merely shook her head without raising it. Tom looked at Greg quizzically, and Greg quickly said, "There's no need for you to take her statement. Mine should be more than enough, and I need to get her home now." He didn't say it out loud, but he was starting to get worried. Lynn was showing definite signs of PTSD, and he needed to get her alone, away from the constant reminders of what had just happened.

Tom looked at Lynn carefully and then nodded his understanding. "All right, Greg, I'll call you if I need anything else from you." He stood up and shook Greg's hand, and then Greg put his arm around Lynn and led her out of the station.

Neither of them spoke as they drove back to his apartment, but Greg kept glancing over at Lynn worriedly. She was silently staring out of the window, but every now and then, Greg could see her flinch unconsciously. He drove as quickly as possible, and when they were finally inside the apartment, he sat her down on the couch and took his place beside her. She was still just staring in front of her, so he took her hand in his and used his other to gently turn her face toward him.

"Lynn, sweetheart, talk to me, please."

She brought her eyes to his slowly, and Greg saw that the fear in them had not diminished in the slightest. "Why did he do that, Greg? He didn't even know us. Why would he try to hurt us?" Her voice had a hint of panic in it, and Greg quickly pulled her to his chest, holding her tightly when her breathing began to accelerate. She grasped his jacket lapels with both hands as her thoughts began to tumble out of her mouth, rising in pitch with every word. "Why, Greg, why? He scared me so much, and then I thought someone else was going to come and help him, and I felt like I was all alone, and I thought that he was going to kill you and then kill me, and..." She stopped suddenly, and held her breath for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was a little calmer, but her hands didn't release the death grip they had on his jacket. "But then he said that someone was going to kill him, and I felt sorry for him." She sat up quickly, and stared intently into Greg's eyes. "How could I feel sorry for him? He tried to rob us! He threatened to kill us!"

Greg raised one hand to gently caress Lynn's cheek. "You felt sorry for him because you are a kind and compassionate person. Even when you were terrified, you could still feel empathy for that boy." He laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. "And I want you to know that you were never alone, and you will never be alone as long as I have anything to say about it. I will always protect you, Lynn. I couldn't live if anything happened to you."

Lynn closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded, but she didn't speak again. Her hands began to relax, and Greg drew her close as his lips gently brushed across hers. Then he stretched out on his side on the couch with his head on his arm, and pulled her down next to him. She cuddled close, her hands still on his jacket, and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his free arm around her and gently stroked her back as he whispered, "I love you, Lynn, with all that I am. I won't let anything happen to you," and he kissed her curls before resting his cheek on them.

For the first time, Lynn didn't respond in kind, but she nodded her head slightly, and Greg knew that was all he was going to get for now. He knew that it was going to take quite a bit of time before Lynn got over this, and he was worried that there wasn't enough time before she had to go home. He was still trying to think of a solution to this problem when he realized that Lynn's hands had slipped from his jacket, and that she had fallen asleep. He pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind and let himself drift off, too.


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

Greg came instantly awake when he heard Lynn whimper in her sleep. He hadn't been sleeping very deeply, and the sound penetrated his brain immediately. He shifted so that he could look at her; she was still on her side facing him, but her brow was creased, and as he watched, she unexpectedly flailed her arms, hitting him in the chest, while releasing a loud cry. "No, Greg!"

The flailing was increasing, and, to keep Lynn from falling off of the couch, Greg quickly sat up and pulled her to him. "Lynn, sweetheart, wake up." He tenderly caressed her back as she began to toss her head and hit at him, still calling out.

"No, please, no! Leave me alone! Greg!"

Greg took her by the arms and gently shook her. "Lynn, wake up. Wake up!" These last words were sharp enough to slightly crack the nightmare she was encased in, and her eyes snapped open. Still unaware of her surroundings, however, she looked at him in terror and fought to free herself from his grasp.

"No, let me go! Let me go!"

"Darling, it's me, it's Greg," he said desperately, trying to get her to look at him. "Lynn, stop it, it's me!"

Her eyes slowly focused, and her frantic motions stilled. She searched his face before whispering, "Greg? What happened?"

He relaxed his grip and softly caressed her face with the backs of his fingers. "Shh. You had a nightmare, but you're all right now." His hand moved to push a damp curl behind her ear, and he laid a gentle kiss on her forehead before looking deeply into her eyes. "You are all right, aren't you?"

Lynn took a shaky breath and simply nodded. Then her arms went around him, and she laid her head on his chest. He could feel her body shaking as he held her tightly, and he spoke softly. "Do you remember the dream?"

She nodded without lifting away from him.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Once again, he felt her nod, and she took a deep breath and held it for a moment before releasing it slowly. "We were in the garage, but it wasn't a boy with us. It was a huge man. He stabbed you. Then he was coming for me, and he grabbed me. He was pulling me back into the shadows when you woke me up." He felt a shudder travel through her body, and he pulled her even closer, placing gentle kisses on her hair. She took another deep breath and settled into his embrace.

"Are you sure you're okay, Lynn?" Greg couldn't keep the worry out of his voice.

She sat up and nodded, staring into his eyes. Then she raised one hand and traced the furrows between his eyebrows. "You don't have to worry about me, sweetheart. I'm fine. It was just a dream." She leaned into him, kissing him lightly.

Greg cupped the back of her head and intensified the kiss somewhat, teasing her lips open with his tongue and softly tangling it with hers. The kiss remained gentle and loving, and, when they pulled apart, Lynn smiled warmly.

"Thank you, my love," she said.

"For what?"

"Everything. For protecting me tonight, for worrying about me, for always being there for me." She paused for a moment. "Even for helping that boy. I realize now that he was just in a desperate situation. At least, that's what I think you think, right?"

"Right," Greg said simply, and then he caught Lynn's gaze with his own, "but I don't ever want you to think that my duty as a police officer is more important than you. I would willingly do anything necessary to keep you safe. I hope you don't feel that I was putting that boy ahead of you, because I wasn't. My gut feeling was that he wasn't really a threat, despite his words, and I was sure I could talk him down and help him." He swallowed as the next words got caught in his throat. "I wasn't pushing you aside; I need you to know that."

She rested her forehead against his and sighed as she closed her eyes. "I know, Greg; I'm not mad at you. I know that if you had thought he was a threat, you would have done what was necessary to protect me. I knew that even while it was happening, but I was so scared that my mind wouldn't accept it." She chuckled mirthlessly. "Obviously, my subconscious still hasn't accepted it."

"Well, nightmares are common after something like this, and I want you to promise me that you'll tell me if you have another one,"

Lynn pulled back when she heard the seriousness of his tone, and he gave her a look to match. She nodded her head. "I promise."

"Good, because the worst thing you can do is keep stuff like this bottled up inside of you. Believe me; I have plenty of experience with that." Greg smiled and stood up, pulling Lynn with him. "Now, I think you should take a nice hot, relaxing bath. I have a couple of phone calls to make, and they may take a while."

Lynn let out a heavy sigh, "Oh, that sounds heavenly! How is it that you always seem to know exactly what I need?"

"It's kind of part of my job, remember?" Greg said with a slight smirk.

Lynn laughed lightly and gave him a quick kiss before disappearing into his bathroom. He followed silently behind her and waited until he heard the bathwater running. Then he took off his jacket and hung it up after taking out his cell phone. He sat on the couch and slipped off his shoes and socks. Lynn had been so upset when they got home that they had both fallen asleep with their shoes on, although, when Lynn had been in the throes of her nightmare, she had kicked hers off. He dialed Dean's number and wasn't terribly surprised when it went to voicemail; after all, it was Saturday night, and even police cadets got time off. He left a message for Dean to call him as soon as possible and then disconnected and called Ed.

"Hey, Greg, what's up?" Ed's voice was cheerful and relaxed, and Greg hated to shatter that peace with his news.

Greg tried to keep his voice light. "Just thought I'd call and say hi, Eddie."

When he paused, Ed immediately spoke, his voice serious and focused. "At ten o'clock at night? What's wrong?"

He should have known Eddie would know something was wrong the instant he opened his mouth. "We were mugged tonight," he sighed.

"What? When?"

Greg looked at his watch. "About four hours ago. We went to the theater and dinner, and a kid pulled a knife on us in the parking garage."

"Seriously? Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine. Lynn was really freaked out at first, but…" he glanced at the bedroom door, "I think she'll be all right. The boy didn't really want to be there, and I knew it. I talked him down, and now he's at the station."

"That's good. Great to hear it. Do you need anything from me?"

"No, not really. I just wanted to let you know before you heard it through the grapevine. You know how stories get twisted through gossip. If I let you hear it at SRU, you'd probably hear that I took down fifty guys single-handedly after being hit by a hand grenade."

Ed chuckled, "Oh, yeah, I know. Are you going to call the others, or do you want me to tell them?"

Greg thought for a moment. "You working tomorrow?"

"Yeah, all the teams are. You know, the day before a holiday. Fun times ahead." They both knew that holiday weekends were among the worst for cops – those and full moons.

It had been a long time since Greg had to deal with that, but he still felt a twinge of regret every time Eddie talked about the SRU. "Well, I'll let you tell the team when you see them."

The two friends talked for a few more minutes and then disconnected. Greg set the phone on the coffee table, closed his eyes, and sank back into the couch with a sigh. While talking with Eddie, he had realized something. During the incident with Wallace, he had felt more alive than he had in almost two years. Talking the boy down had made him feel like he was back at SRU, and it had felt damn good.

As he relaxed, the germ of an idea began to form in his mind.

Greg didn't know how long he sat there, but he groaned when he felt Lynn's hands massaging his shoulders, He must have dozed off because he hadn't heard her come in the room.

"Mmm, that feels great," he murmured. He laid his head on the back of the couch and opened his eyes to look up at her. Lynn was standing behind the couch, and she was smiling as she worked on his muscles. She leaned down and gave him a quick upside-down kiss before removing her hands and coming around the couch.

"Let's do it properly, then," she said, holding out her hand to him.

Greg placed his hand in hers and stood up. She led him to the bedroom and he saw that there were towels laid across the length of his side of the bed. He looked at her quizzically, but she only smiled. She was wearing his robe, and he couldn't see what she was wearing underneath, if anything. He tried to remove the robe, but she gently pushed his hands away.

"Nope," she said, "not tonight," and she began to unbutton his shirt.

Greg lowered his hands to his sides and let her continue, wondering what she had in mind, if not making love. When she had his shirt off, she moved to his pants. Removing them and his boxers, she then took him by the hand again and led him to the bed and told him to lie facedown on the bed. "And don't move," she whispered into his ear.

It was slightly uncomfortable considering he was getting aroused, but he complied. He folded his hands under his head, which he turned to the side so that he could see Lynn. She disappeared into the bathroom and came out with a bottle in her hand. Then she slipped off the robe, and Greg could see that she was wearing a thigh-length nightshirt. She came to the bed and climbed on, straddling his thighs. He heard her open the bottle, and then felt the most amazing sensation as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

Her hands were slick with oil, and they were also unnaturally warm; the scent of vanilla filled the air. He moaned as she began to knead his muscles, her thumbs digging painfully into knots he didn't realize he had. Shortly, though, the pain subsided, and there was only the feeling of deep relief. Her hands moved to his neck, down his spine, and across his back muscles, pausing whenever she felt a knot and resuming the ministrations with her thumbs. Occasionally, she would stop and apply more oil to her hands. When she reached his waist, she shifted her attention to the backs of his arms, pulling them out from under his head one at a time. When she finished there, she moved off of him. He tried to lift his head to see what she was doing, but he was too relaxed. Then he felt her take his right foot in her hand.

He sank deeper into the bed and groaned as she moved her way up the back of his leg to his groin. He tensed in anticipation, but she stopped at the junction of his thigh and butt and then moved to his left leg. She repeated her massage and lastly, gently massaged his ass. He had completely relaxed while she was working, but the feel of her hands on that part of him caused him to instantly harden again. He was about to say something about it when she gently rolled him over onto his back.

"Lynn," he began, but she raised one finger to his lips.

"Shh, just relax and enjoy," she whispered.

"Oh, I am definitely enjoying," he rasped out as she poured the oil onto her hands. "I don't know about the relaxing, though; at least, for some parts of me." In this position, he could see everything she was doing, and his lower region was not relaxing at all; in fact, it was quite the opposite.

She glanced down and chuckled. "Well, we'll just have to see what can be done about that," and she began on the front of him, starting at his chest. Greg watched every move she made. She paused when she reached the scar on his side and looked at him questioningly.

"It's okay," he said, "it doesn't hurt."

She was still gentle there, however, and then she moved down to his waist before again switching to his arms. She repeated her previous motions by moving to his feet and moving up his right leg first, again stopping at his groin. This time, however, she let the backs of her fingers gently graze his sack, causing him to groan loudly. When she got to his left leg, she again became gentle as she reached his thigh. When she got to his groin again, he had the strangest feeling. His body was completely relaxed; he felt that if he tried to stand, he would simply melt onto the floor. However, he also had a raging hard-on, and when Lynn grazed him again, he gasped.

"This was supposed to relax you," she pouted prettily.

"Oh, I'm relaxed," he insisted, staring down at her, "most of me, anyway."

She smiled and said, "Well, there is one place I haven't massaged yet, isn't there?" and she trailed her fingers along his shaft.

Greg's only response was another loud groan, and she smirked as she straddled his thighs and slowly let a stream of oil fill her palm. She rubbed her hands together sensuously, and Greg's breathing began to quicken just watching her. When she encircled his penis with her hand, he almost lost control immediately, but he didn't want this to end too soon. The show she was putting on was the most erotic thing he had ever experienced, and he wanted it to last as long as possible.

Lynn began to slowly slide her hand up his shaft, stopping when she reached the tip. She let her thumb circle the head as she gently squeezed, and she reached her free hand up to tweak his nipples. Another moan escaped Greg, and Lynn began to move her hand faster. He tried to touch her, but she the hand at his chest held him down and refused him. He tried to keep his eyes open to watch, but the friction, combined with the warmth of the oil, was more than he could take. He could feel his climax approaching, and he bucked his hips into her hand. She increased her speed and then removed her hand from his chest and cupped his balls. This sent him over the edge, and he threw his head back onto the pillow as his hands fisted in the towels beneath him. As he came, he cried out Lynn's name, and then he collapsed onto the bed, completely spent.

He sensed Lynn moving off of his legs and sliding up his body to lay next to him. He reached a shaky arm around her and pulled her close. She rested her head on his chest and used one finger to trace small circles on his stomach. His skin was oversensitized, and that simple motion caused a shudder to race through him. He heard Lynn chuckle softly, and he planted a kiss on her head.

"Thank you, my love," he whispered harshly.

"You're welcome," she responded, placing her lips on his chest before pulling herself into a sitting position. "It was my pleasure."

Greg sighed deeply before raising himself up on his elbows. As he looked down at the mess he had made, he noticed that both he and Lynn shone with the oil. He smiled and said, "I think we need a shower; what do you think?"

"Hmm, you may be right," and they climbed off the bed, Greg somewhat shakily.

Lynn gathered up the towels, and as they headed for the bathroom, Greg laughed softly. "I was wondering what those were for."

"Yeah, I didn't want to ruin your blankets," she said as he started the water.

Greg stepped in as Lynn removed her nightshirt and panties. She joined him and shut the door. One of the things that had attracted him to this apartment years ago was that the tub and shower were separate. He liked the intimacy of an enclosed shower, even when he was alone, and now that Lynn was with him, he liked it even more.

He reached for her, but she put her hands on his chest. "No, Greg. I meant it when I said not tonight." She looked him in the eye, and he saw she was serious.

"All right," he said, putting his hands up in surrender, "I won't try anything." He lowered his hands and took her by the shoulders. "But you can't stop me from touching you, Lynn," and he turned her around, drawing her back into his chest.

"I didn't mean that, Greg." She traced his arms with her hands, relaxing into him and resting her head on his shoulder. "I never want you to stop touching me."

"That's good." He took the body wash and a sponge without moving her away from him and began to slowly wash the front of her body.

When they were both clean and dry, they walked back to the bed without dressing. Greg held the covers back as Lynn climbed in, and then he slid in beside her. She cuddled closely to him as he wrapped his arms around her, and he heard her whisper, "I love you, Greg, with all that I am."

He squeezed her gently. "And I love you, Lynn, with all that I am."

Greg lay there for a long time after she fell asleep, thinking about the idea that had come to him earlier. He smiled, knowing that he may have figured out a solution to their problem, but also knowing that he had a lot of research to do before telling Lynn about it. He hoped that by Christmas, he would have an answer that would make them both happy.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

Greg woke early the next morning, and he saw that Lynn was lying on her back next to him. He turned on his side and gently drew her to him. She didn't even twitch as he pulled her close, and he took the opportunity to simply hold her, tenderly tracing random patterns on her skin. Her softness and her scent invaded his senses, and he could feel himself respond. Greg knew that she was still sleeping soundly, but the problem was that he was now very much awake – all of him; the simple act of touching her skin had ignited his arousal. He glanced over his shoulder at the clock on his nightstand and saw that it was only about five o'clock. He chuckled softly when he decided that she had slept enough, and he knew exactly how he was going to wake her up.

He let his hand dip underneath the covers and pull them down to Lynn's waist. She mumbled something incoherent but didn't wake. His touch was almost nonexistent, barely grazing her skin. He explored her breasts with his fingertips, causing her to squirm slightly. He cupped one in his palm and began to gently pinch the nipple. It wasn't until he leaned down and took it in his mouth, however, that he heard a soft gasp. As he flicked his tongue across her nipple, Lynn moaned louder, and Greg felt her hand move to the back of his head. He smiled to himself as he continued to use his teeth and tongue to tease her nipple to a hardened nub. He then moved his ministrations to her other breast while his hand once again slipped underneath the covers. Lynn's breath caught as he reached the curls enveloping her womanhood, her hips arching up to meet his hand, but he only brushed the outside of her folds before gently bringing one finger slowly up between them, feeling her wetness and heat and hearing her softly say his name.

Greg stilled his hand, his finger just outside her entrance, and raised his head from her breast. He rested his head in his free hand and looked down at Lynn. Her lips were parted, she was breathing heavily, and her eyes had been half-closed, but when he ceased his motions, they popped open, capturing his in their pools of blue. He grinned when her forehead furrowed, and she bit her bottom lip.

"What's the matter?" He tried to sound innocent, but it came out more like someone who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Before she could answer, he slowly circled her nub with his thumb without moving any other part of his hand. He felt her muscles spasm, and a small moan escaped her lips, but she didn't release his eyes from hers.

"You, Greg Parker, are a tease." Her voice was husky, and it sent a jolt of electricity straight to his groin. He forced himself to stay in control, however, and slowly slid his finger into her.

"How can you say that?" He allowed her to hear a false tone of hurt in his voice. "I was only trying to wake you up."

Lynn gasped and arched her back as he added a second finger and began to move them slowly in and out, his thumb never halting its circles.

"You have definitely done that," she managed hoarsely as she reached up and pulled him down for a kiss.

Passion exploded as soon as their mouths touched, and their tongues and teeth danced and clashed as Greg increased the speed and pressure of his motions. Lynn tried to reach down between them to grasp him, but their positions prevented it. That was fine with him; he wanted this time to be all about her. He could feel her begin to tighten around his hand, and he suddenly curled his fingers in a "come hither" motion. Lynn broke the kiss with a harsh cry, and she painfully grasped Greg's arm as her orgasm hit. She threw her head back onto the pillow and arched her hips into his hand. Greg didn't stop his movements until he felt her relax, and then he slowly removed his hand, laying it on her hip. Lynn was lying still, her eyes closed, panting softly, and Greg leaned down to brush his lips over hers.

"Mmm," she moaned, "that was incredible."

Greg chuckled, "Well, thank you very much."

Lynn opened her eyes. "No, I'm serious, Greg." She rolled onto her side so that she was facing him. She slowly ran her fingers up and down his arm as she looked him in the eye. "You are amazing." She hesitated before continuing softly, "I know you told me not to compare you to John, but I can't help it. In almost twenty-five years of marriage, he never made me feel the way you do. Don't get me wrong; I loved him deeply, and our sex life was fine, but I guess there was no...passion." She paused, took a deep breath, and went on. "Just being near you makes my heart race. A simple look from you makes me feel like I am on fire. The hint of your lips on mine makes me feel faint, and when you touch me, well, I never knew that making love could be like this; that a man could make my body respond like this."

Greg didn't know what to say. It was true that he didn't want to be compared to her dead husband, but he couldn't help the surge of pride that flowed through him at her words. He supposed it was only natural; after all, what man didn't want to hear a woman tell him how great he was in bed? Especially the woman he loved. What Lynn was saying went far beyond the bedroom, however. She was talking about chemistry. There had been something very powerful between them from the instant he saw her watching him at O'Malley's. The brilliant blue of her eyes never ceased to cause a reaction in him when she looked at him, and, as she had said, the mere presence of her beside him lit a fire in him that nothing could quench.

"Thank you, my love. It means a lot to me to hear you say that." He leaned down and kissed her, and she brought her hand to his cheek. When they broke the kiss, he took her hand and nuzzled his lips on her palm and then tenderly placed them on the back of her knuckles. "I love you," he whispered without raising his head, but when he heard her inhale, he brought it up to look her in the eye. She was about to speak, but he released her hand and put his finger on her lips to silence her. "Shh, just listen."

Lynn nodded her head and closed her mouth.

"I love you, Lynn, more than I ever thought possible. I know exactly what you mean when you talk of fire and passion. I can't get enough of you. When I am with you, I can't think straight. When you are away, I feel like my heart has been ripped from me. All I want is to look at you and kiss you and…and…damn it, just feel you!" He grabbed her hand and brought it between his legs where his erection was painfully pronounced. "You haven't even really touched me yet, and feel! This is what you do to me with just a smile, Lynn, just a glance, just a kiss, just the knowledge of how I make you feel."

He suddenly groaned as Lynn wrapped her hand around him and began to slowly stroke. She scooted her body closer to his until their chests were touching, her hand trapped between them, never stopping.

"I love you, too, Greg. It thrills me to know that I make you feel like this." She gave a gentle squeeze in the midst of her strokes, and Greg groaned again. Her lips twitched upward. "But right now, I want you to tell me what you want. Do I continue this," and she let her thumb graze his glans, causing him to buck his hips, "or would you like something else?"

Greg looked at her in confusion. What was she asking? His brain wasn't working right, and he took a deep breath. "What do you mean?" he asked stupidly.

"Well," she said, "I could keep doing what I'm doing, or…" and she pushed him onto his back and straddled his shins, never releasing him or slowing her motions. "Or, I could do this," and she brought her head down to him and slowly drew her tongue around the tip of his penis.

"Oh, God, yes!" Greg cried out savagely, flinging his head back.

He felt rather than heard Lynn chuckle as she continued to stroke his shaft with her hand, but now she also circled the head with her tongue. She would occasionally take the tip between her lips, but she didn't actually close them over it. Greg had never climaxed during a blowjob that wasn't really a blowjob, but he was awfully close right now. She knew what she was doing, though, and just when he thought he was done, she moved her hand down to his balls and began gently running her fingertips over them while her tongue traced the vein on the underside of his penis. It was a completely different sensation than before, and he moaned loudly. Again, she brought him close to the end, and then she raised her head, gently raking her fingernails up and down him.

Greg looked down at her and was startled to see a wicked grin on her face.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked.

He grunted and rasped, "Now who's being the tease? God, Lynn, you are driving me insane!"

She grinned wider and lowered her mouth to the tip of his penis. Her hand was still caressing his balls, and now she took him between her lips. She clamped down hard, and Greg let out a loud cry. Her finger and thumb encircled the base of his shaft to steady him, and she drew him in, tongue moving, the wetness and heat of her mouth making him feel like he would explode. Her pace was excruciatingly slow, however, and it seemed like forever before her lips reached her hand. The speed with which she sucked her way back to the tip was just as slow, and Greg could not stand it anymore.

"Please, Lynn! Faster, please!" He was practically shouting at this point, and Lynn responded immediately. She began to move quickly but still managed to somehow keep her tongue in motion as well. Greg's hands moved involuntarily to the back of her head, tangling themselves in her curls, and he matched her speed with his hips. It wasn't long until he felt his balls constrict, and his hips bucked up as he reached his climax with a feral cry.

His hands relaxed as he came down from the peak, and Lynn raised her head, the grin still on her face, although it was more satisfied than wicked now. She slowly slid up his body until she was able to place a chaste kiss on his lips. His hands moved to caress her back, and he smiled foolishly at her.

"Wow!" he breathed, still not completely grounded. "Talk about incredible! That was unbelievable!"

"Well, thank you very much," she laughed, repeating his words from earlier.

Greg also laughed softly and drew her down for another tender kiss before enfolding her in his arms. They lay there for several minutes before Greg asked. "No more nightmares?" He knew that he hadn't woken in the night, but that didn't necessarily mean she had slept peacefully.

"No, not even a dream I can remember." He felt her breath on his chest as she spoke.

"Promise?"

"Yes, my love, I promise. I told you I'd tell you if I had more nightmares, and I meant it."

Greg nodded. "Good," he stated, and as they lay there, content to be in each other's arms, he felt Lynn relax back into sleep. He allowed himself to drift off as well, and he knew no more until the alarm clock went off two hours later. He reached over to the nightstand and turned off the noise.

Lynn moved against him and then put her hands on his chest and pushed back slightly. He brought his lips to hers gently and then said, "We should probably get up now. Dean is coming home soon, and we still need to go shopping."

Lynn groaned softly but nodded. "You are probably right." She gave him one quick kiss and then rolled off of him and slid off the bed, holding out her hand to help him up.

He took it, stood, and gathered her in his arms. "Shower?"

"Absolutely," she replied, and they moved toward the bathroom, neither one wanting to release the other.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

They were cleaning up after breakfast when Greg heard the front door open.

"Dad? You home?"

A broad smile crossed his face at the sound of Dean's voice. "Yeah, Dean, in the kitchen." Greg put the last plate in the dishwasher, and then dried his hands. Dean walked in, and Greg immediately pulled him into a quick hug, slapping his back.

Dean hugged him back, and when they separated, he looked over his dad's shoulder at Lynn. "Hello, Lynn, how was your trip?"

"Just fine, Dean, thanks. It's good to see you again," she offered.

"Same here." Dean accepted Lynn in his dad's life, but the two of them hadn't spent much time together, so he was still only politely civil to her. Greg hoped that before Monday night, the two most important people in his life would get to know each other better.

Lynn pulled three cookbooks off of the counter and nodded to Greg. He nodded back and turned to Dean. "I have to tell you something, Deano."

"What is it?" Worry tinged Dean's words as he looked back and forth from Lynn to his father. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," Greg said, guiding him out of the kitchen with one hand on his shoulder. They went into the living room, and sat on the couch. Greg rested his arm on the back so that he faced Dean, and said, "I just wanted to tell you what happened last night."

Dean thumped his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Oh, geez, Dad, I completely forgot to call you back. I'm sorry. I was out with friends and didn't hear the phone. By the time I got in, it was late, and then I forgot this morning."

"Hey, son, don't worry about it. It's not something that couldn't wait until now." Greg took a deep breath before continuing. "Lynn and I were involved in a mugging after we went to the theater yesterday."

"What?" Dean had been slumped a little into the arm of the couch, but at this revelation, he bolted upright, concern clearly etched on his face. "Are you guys all right?"

Greg reached over and laid his hand on Dean's arm. "We're fine, Dean, just fine, but I wanted you to know the facts before the story hit the college. There's no telling how gossip is going to change the truth, and I want you to be able to sort out the exaggerations."

He spent the next fifteen minutes or so telling Dean what had happened and answered all his questions, reassuring him more than once that he and Lynn were both okay. Greg was actually proud of his son; he asked all the right questions to find out the entire truth. Even with a personal connection, Dean was acting like a good cop should.

"So," he asked, "what are you going to do now, Dad?"

"What do you mean?"

Dean smiled. "I know you. You won't let this boy slip through the cracks if there's anything you can do about it. How are you going to handle this situation?"

The pride swelled a little bit more. Dean was a lot like him; he seemed to have a negotiator's instincts, and Greg saw good things in his future in the Police Service. "You're right, son, I have to do something, but I don't know what. It all depends on the results of the murder investigation. If Wallace was involved, there may not be anything I can do." He glanced at the dining room door where he knew Lynn was making out a grocery list from the recipes in the cookbooks. "And I don't know how Lynn is going to feel about me helping Wallace. I haven't asked her yet, so please don't bring that part up. I'm going to talk to her about it later today."

"Sure, Dad, I understand."

"Thank you, son."

Just then, Lynn walked into the room with a piece of paper in her hand.

"Finished," she stated, looking from father to son. "Are you ready to go, Greg?"

Greg patted Dean on the shoulder and stood up. "Yes, I am. Dean, we're just going to go shopping for dinner tomorrow. Do you want to come with us?"

"No, thanks, Dad. I was out pretty late last night, so I think I'll just take a shower and then lay down for a while. Wake me up later if you need help with anything, though."

"Sure thing."

Greg walked around the couch and helped Lynn on with her coat before putting on his own. They walked to his car, and as they drove the short distance to the store, she asked, "So, how did he take the news?"

A chuckle escaped Greg's throat. "Like a cop."

Lynn smiled as she responded, "Well, I suppose that's a good thing since he's going to be one soon."

"That is very true, my dear. And from the way he interrogated me, I think he'll be a very good one."

Lynn reached over and took Greg's hand, and they were silent for the rest of the drive. While they shopped, they talked about the meal they were going to make the next day. Lynn was still amazed that Greg was going to let her help him cook. She felt honored that he trusted her in that way.

When they got back to the apartment, Dean's bedroom door was closed, and Greg assumed he was asleep. He and Lynn put the groceries away, and then they got a couple of sodas and went into the living room. As Lynn sat down on the couch, Greg went to the stereo and put in a Frank Sinatra CD, turning it loud enough to hear, but soft enough that they could talk over it. He sat down next to Lynn and took her hand in both of his.

"Lynn, I have to tell you something."

"Okay." The look on her face was a cross between curiousness and concern. "Should I be worried?"

"No, not at all." Greg paused as he thought how to phrase his words. "I want to do what I can to help Wallace...the boy in the garage. I think he's in way over his head, and I don't think he was in that situation by choice." He looked into Lynn's eyes, trying to gauge her reaction, but he needn't have bothered. She made her thoughts quite clear right away.

Her eyebrows came together, and her irises darkened as anger filled them. "What do you mean he didn't have a choice? Of course he had a choice! He could have called the police when his brother threatened him...or better yet, he could have called them before he ever carried the drugs in the first place. Everyone has choices, Greg!" She pulled her hand from his and balled it into a fist, which she placed in her lap.

Greg sighed. He had been afraid that she would not see the situation the same way he did, and he couldn't blame her. After all, he was looking at it from a cop's point of view, and she saw it from a victim's. He slowly reached over and reclaimed her hand, and even when she tried to pull it away again, he held it firmly, gently stroking it. As her hand relaxed, so did the rest of her body. He intertwined their fingers and raised them to his lips, gently kissing each of her fingertips in turn.

"I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to make you angry." He looked at her and let the back of his free hand caress her cheek. "I know how you must feel, but my instincts are telling me that Wallace has been sucked into something he didn't want, and I want to try and get him the help and support he needs to get out. Do you understand?" He cupped her cheek, and was happy when she leaned into his hand.

"No, I'm sorry, Greg, I shouldn't have lashed out like that." She gently squeezed the hand she was holding and locked gazes with him, calming herself even more by looking into his chocolate brown eyes. She could see the sincerity in them, and she took several deep breaths before speaking. "I think I understand your need to help him, but I'm not sure I will ever understand his reasoning for what he did. I just think of all the other choices he could have made, but..." She let a small smile grace her face, and she turned her face into his palm. Giving it a gentle kiss, she took it in her free hand. "You have to understand, I have a hard time thinking of you as a cop. Except for the ceremony and the tour you gave me of SRU, I have never seen you in that mode, and even in those situations, it was still just like you were showing me something of interest, not something that was your life. I've never been with you when you weren't in...civilian mode, for lack of a better term." She paused slightly. "Greg, I love you, even if I don't completely understand all that you are and all that you do. I'm not sure I ever will, but if you really feel the need to do this for Wallace, I trust you, and I'll support you completely." She leaned forward to place her lips on his.

The love that filled Greg's heart at that moment threatened to overwhelm him. The fact that Lynn was willing to put aside her own feelings in order to support him was more than he could have hoped for. He released her hands and drew her to him, deepening the kiss. As his tongue traced her lips, he felt her hands move to embrace him. When their mouths separated, Greg gave her one more tender kiss before pulling her head to his chest.

"Oh, Lynn, you don't know what that means to me."

Lynn heard his voice shake and quickly raised her head to look at him. She raised one hand to gently wipe away the single tear that had escaped his eyes. "Greg? What's wrong?"

He smiled at her and shook his head. "Nothing, my love, nothing. It's just that Dean's mother did all she could to try and persuade me to leave the Police Service, and I think Marina saw me more as her hero than her boyfriend. Neither of them truly supported my job; they both wanted me to be something I wasn't. To know that you trust me without understanding is simply amazing to me."

"I will always trust you, Greg. I know that you would never do anything that would hurt me, so there is no reason not to trust. I see that in everything you do, your integrity and ethics are immensely important to you. That's how I know that if you think helping Wallace is the best thing to do, then it is, even if I don't understand."

She gently pushed him back onto the arm of the couch so that he was reclining slightly, and then she laid her head on his chest. He put his arms around her and rested his cheek on her curls.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but she still heard him.

"No more than I did to deserve you, my love," she responded.

They lay there for quite a while, content to be in each other's embrace, listening to the classic love songs that came from the stereo. Their eyes were closed, but they weren't asleep. Greg was thinking about how blessed his life had become since Lynn had entered it, and she was thinking the same thing.

"Ahem!"

Greg slowly opened one eye to see Dean standing next to the couch, a wry grin on his face.

"Yes, son?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if you guys were awake." Dean couldn't keep in the small chuckle that escaped him.

"We're awake, just incredibly comfortable right now. Did you need something?"

Dean saw the smile on Lynn's face and took that as confirmation that she agreed with his dad. "No, I was just wondering if you had any plans for this afternoon or evening." He sat down on the arm of the couch and crossed his arms.

Greg groaned as he gently pushed Lynn off of him and sat up. She opened her eyes at this movement, and frowned playfully at him. He smiled and kept one arm around her while he looked at his son. "No, nothing planned, why?"

"Well, one of the other cadets had some tickets for sale, and I was wondering if you'd like to help me use them." Dean had a conspiratorial grin on his face, and Greg looked at him with mock suspicion.

"Tickets? For what?"

Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out three blue pieces of paper. "Oh, they are just for center ice, rinkside seats to the Maple Leafs. They are playing the Blackhawks in about three hours."

"Really?" Greg reached around Lynn and snatched the tickets from Dean's hand, eliciting a hearty laugh from his son. "How in the world did you manage to get these?"

"Richard had bought them a long time ago for his brothers and him, and just last night, he found out that his grandparents were coming in from Vancouver for Thanksgiving. He hasn't seen them in a long time, so, instead of spending a few hours at the game, they will be spending them with the family. He even let me buy them at a discount."

Greg stood up, a big grin on his face. He pulled Dean off the couch into a hug, and then said, "This is great, Deano! But you have to let me help you pay for them."

"No, sir, I don't. This is my treat to you, a thank you for everything you've done for me the last few years."

"But..."

"No buts. I insist."

Greg found that he couldn't speak; his throat had constricted, and so he simply nodded and pulled Dean into another hug and kissed him on the cheek. As he released his son, a thought suddenly popped into his head, and he spun around to face Lynn.

She was sitting on the edge of the couch, elbows on knees and chin in hands, an amused smirk on her face, watching them.

"Oh, I am so sorry, Lynn," Greg breathed, consternation clear on his face, "I should have asked you before accepting. I don't even know if you want to go."

Lynn laughed and raised her head. "Don't be ridiculous, Greg. As if I would ever pass up a chance to see you act like this! I have never seen you so excited about anything. Besides, I love hockey, and I've never been to a professional game before. Watching it on TV just isn't the same."

Greg nodded and replied, "You are right about that." He turned back to Dean, who was thoroughly enjoying this situation. "I guess that's a yes, then." He handed the tickets to his son, suddenly serious. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, Dad." He stuck the tickets in his back pocket. "You know, if you really want to help with the finances, I wouldn't be averse to having you buy lunch." Dean raised his eyebrows inquisitively at his dad.

"My pleasure, son." Greg clapped Dean's shoulder and grinned.

They heard Lynn chuckle as she stood up and started walking to the bedroom. "I'm going to get ready," she said, laying a quick kiss on Greg's cheek as she passed him. He watched her until she shut the door, and then he sat on the couch.

Dean joined him with a thoughtful look on his face. He stared at the closed bedroom door, his head slightly cocked to one side.

"What are you thinking, Dean?"

Without moving, Dean said, "I am thinking that I really like her, Dad." He looked at Greg. "She is nice and funny and, most importantly, I see how much she loves you."

"And I love her," Greg said with a sigh, settling back into the couch. He placed his hands behind his head and closed his eyes while he stretched languorously. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I love her more than I ever loved your mother or Marina."

Dean copied his dad's lazy posture. "That's good, Dad, because I think she loves you more than Mom or Marina ever did. You were never this happy with either of them, and I am glad to see you happy now." He turned his head toward Greg without moving the rest of his body. "I am really, really glad."

Greg simply nodded. "Me too, son, me too."

They stayed in that position until Lynn emerged from the bedroom, dressed in a thick, woolen sweater and jeans. "Ready?" she asked.

The two men instantly stood up. Dean said, "I am," and quickly walked to his room to get his shoes.

Greg openly admired Lynn, letting his gaze travel from her head to her feet and back. Even in the bulky sweater, she was the sexiest woman he had ever seen. He covered the few feet between them and wrapped one hand around her waist, pulling her close. Giving her a brief but passionate kiss, he said quietly, "Always ready, my love."

She grinned and elbowed him lightly. "That is not what I meant, you know."

He gave her a smirk and said, "I know, but it's true, nonetheless."

Dean returned from his room as Greg and Lynn were putting on their own shoes, and the three of them grabbed their coats. During the drive to The Air Canada Centre, the conversation was light. Lynn asked Dean about his schoolwork, and he asked about her work in Colorado. She brought up the topic of girls, and Greg laughed when Dean said, "Let's just say that my dad is having much more luck in that department than I am."

When they got to the arena, Greg pulled his disabled parking permit out of the glove compartment. Lynn's eyes widened when she saw it, but she didn't say anything. Greg smiled slightly as he explained, "I don't normally use this. I dislike seeing myself as disabled, but I know that parking will be at a premium today, and I don't want you to have to walk too far."

"That's sweet, Greg, but I can handle the walk. You don't have to use it if you don't want to." She laid her hand on his arm gently.

Greg glanced at her as he pulled into the line already forming in front of the parking garage. "Are you sure? I don't mind, really."

She smiled at his kindness and squeezed his arm. "Yes, you do, Greg. We can park wherever you like."

Greg heard Dean clear his throat, and he looked in the rearview mirror at his son. There was a smile on Dean's face as he watched their interaction, and the smile grew as Lynn took the permit from Greg's hand and returned it to the glove compartment.

They ended up with a relatively decent parking spot, anyway, and Greg slipped his hand into Lynn's as they walked to the arena. They had decided during the drive that they would eat at one of the restaurants in the Centre to save time. Dean called while they drove and made a reservation for twelve thirty. Face-off wasn't until three thirty, but they wanted to make sure they left plenty of time before the game started. The restaurant was elegant and comfortable. After they were seated and their orders had been taken, Lynn turned to Dean with an innocent look on her face.

"So, Dean, your dad told me that you hate the Blackhawks, but do you think I'll get in a lot of trouble with the other fans if I root for them?"

Dean had just taken a sip of water, and at Lynn's question, he inhaled sharply. He promptly choked on the water and quickly put the glass back on the table. Greg reached over and slapped him on the back, humor radiating from him.

When he could breathe again, Dean looked at his dad incredulously. "Please tell me she's kidding!"

Greg chuckled and shook his head in mock despair. "I wish I could, son, but, aside from the Avalanche, the Blackhawks are Lynn's favorite team."

Dean groaned and dropped his head in his hands. He raised it slightly and looked at Lynn. "Is he serious?"

"Definitely," she laughed. "Most of my mother's family still lives in the Chicago area. As a matter of fact, I was born in one of the suburbs."

"Oh, man! This is terrible! Dad, how could you?" Dean looked at his dad in horror.

Greg and Lynn both burst into quiet laughter, trying their best not to disturb the other patrons in the restaurant. When they got themselves under control, Lynn reached over and placed her hand on Dean's arm.

"Don't worry, Dean, I won't embarrass you in public." He began to smile, but stopped when she continued, "But, if the Blackhawks win, you won't hear the end of it in private."

He looked at her closely and then grinned when he saw the amusement in her eyes. "Fine, Lynn, but I reserve the right to torment you if the Leafs win. Deal?" He stuck out his hand over the table.

"Deal," she said, and they shook hands firmly, matching grins on their faces.

Greg had watched these last few moments with a contented smile. It felt incredibly good to see his son and the woman he loved bantering with each other like this. Just as they finished shaking hands, their food came, and everyone's attention shifted to their plates. There was little conversation as they ate, but Greg could see the glances Dean occasionally shot at Lynn, as if he were trying to ascertain if she was serious about her Blackhawks allegiance. She in turn simply smiled sweetly at him, saying nothing.

When they were finished eating, Greg paid the check, and they walked to their seats. They were spectacular seats, and Lynn laughed when she saw Greg's eyes light up as the usher guided them down to the fourth row, just east of center ice. When they sat down, Greg took the seat between Dean and Lynn. He raised the armrest between himself and Lynn, and then he draped one arm around her shoulder and the other around Dean's. He sighed contentedly.

"This is absolutely incredible!" he said. "I am here, with the two people I love most in this world, about to see my Toronto Maple Leafs kick the crap out of my girlfriend's Chicago Blackhawks." Lynn let out a huff and tried to remove his arm from her, but he laughed softly, pulled her close, and placed a kiss on her lips. "Of course," he continued, "if my Leafs blow it, my son and I will never live it down."

Lynn grunted and relaxed into his embrace. "You've got that right, mister."

While waiting for the game to start, the three of them tossed lighthearted comments about the opposing teams back and forth, laughing and enjoying each other's company until the seats around them filled and it was time for the players to take the ice. They rose with the rest of the crowd when the starting lineups were announced, and Lynn was happy to see that there were actually quite a number of Blackhawks fans in attendance, if the volume of the cheers for Corey Crawford was any indication. When he was announced as the starting goalie for Chicago, Lynn placed her pinkie fingers in her mouth and let loose a shrill whistle that overpowered most of the boos that surrounded her. She grinned when Greg flinched away from her and covered his ears with his hands, looking at her in dismay.

They stood respectfully during the national anthems, and then the game began. Within the first twenty minutes, Greg knew that he and Dean were in trouble. The Leafs were playing horribly, and at the end of the first period, the score was 2-0 in favor of the Blackhawks. During the first intermission, Lynn said nothing about the game, but simply gave Greg a peck on the cheek before asking him and Dean if they wanted anything from the concession stand. She laughed when they both growled a "no, thank you," and left them to get herself something to drink. The line was long, and the second period was just starting when she got back to her seat.

The rest of the game went no better for the Maple Leafs, and when the final buzzer sounded, the scoreboard showed 5-1, Blackhawks. Lynn was walking on air as she practically dragged a dejected Greg through the crowds. As they exited the elevator and walked toward Greg's car, she took a deep breath and released it melodramatically. "Ah! That was an absolutely fabulous game!" She turned to Dean with a huge grin. "Thank you so much, Dean, for taking us. That definitely made the trip up here worthwhile!"

Greg grunted irritably. "Oh, so I'm not enough to make it worthwhile? Thanks a lot!"

"Don't be silly, Greg," she said with a twinkle in her eye, "of course you are. That just made it even more so."

Dean merely shook his head dispiritedly, as Greg glared at Lynn. "You are really going to rub this in, aren't you?"

She nodded her head vigorously. "Yep, and you know you would have, too, if Toronto had won. Don't deny it."

Greg tried to keep his "angry" face on, but he couldn't keep the corners of his mouth from twitching upward at Lynn's words. She raised her eyebrows at him and looked at him knowingly. This caused Greg to completely give in, and he laughed. "You're right, I would." He elbowed Dean who was still moping beside him. "And you would, too, Deano, right?"

"Yeah, I guess," Dean mumbled, dropping his head. Lynn stopped smiling for a minute, worried that Dean was really upset, but her grin returned as he raised his head just enough to show her the smile upon his own face. "It doesn't mean I have to like it, though."

"Well," she said, putting one arm around Dean's waist and the other around Greg's, "such is life. Of course, I'll get to needle you even more when the Av's beat you next week!"

She chuckled as the two men started passionately telling her all the reasons why Toronto would beat Colorado when they played in Denver. The discussion didn't stop, even as Greg pulled out of the parking garage.

The drive back to Greg's apartment was pleasant, with Lynn defending her Avalanche against the good-natured barbs that Dean and Greg threw at her. By the time they walked through the front door, all three of them were laughing, and they practically collapsed on the couch.

They sat there, trying to compose themselves, which took quite a while, because they were at the point that whenever one even looked at another, they broke out into giggles. Finally, however, they were able to calm down.

"So," Greg managed between deep breaths, "how about a movie?"

"That is a great idea," Lynn said, just as breathlessly. "What about an action film? I don't think my ribs can handle any more laughing, so a comedy is out of the question."

"I agree," Dean put in. "Why don't you two choose something, and I'll get us some snacks?"

Greg nodded and picked up the remote, turning the television on and bringing up the current showings page. Flipping quickly through the list, he and Lynn settled on "Olympus Has Fallen," the newest film with Gerard Butler. Lynn had already seen it, but Greg hadn't, and when Dean returned from the kitchen with some sodas and chips, he said he hadn't seen it, either.

"Are you sure, Lynn? We can pick something else that you haven't seen," Greg asked.

"I'm sure. I've only seen it once, and it was a great movie. I really don't mind seeing it again."

"All right," Greg conceded, and he switched to the correct channel. Then he turned to the others. "I'm hungry. How does pizza sound?"

Dean nodded enthusiastically while Lynn said, "That sounds fabulous," so Greg pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number of his favorite pizza place. The movie had been playing for about twenty minutes when the doorbell rang. Greg got up from the couch and signed for the food before bringing it back to the coffee table.

The next two hours were spent companionably, with Greg leaning against the corner of the couch and Lynn leaning against him, leaving plenty of room for Dean on the other end.

When the movie ended, Lynn stretched and sat up. "So," she asked, "what did you think?"

"I liked it," Greg said. "I seriously hope that your White House has better security than that, though. Those terrorists seemed to breach the defenses pretty easily."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Dean offered. "Of course, even if something like that really happened, one man would never be able to take out all those guys by himself."

Lynn laughed as she stood up. "You two are just as bad as my sons. It's not real, guys, it's a movie. It's just supposed to be entertaining, not a blueprint for reality."

"True," Greg conceded, "but if the premise is even remotely possible in real life, I like movies to be as realistic as possible."

"I agree," Dean interposed.

Lynn just shook her head and chuckled. "Fine, I give up. Right now, I'm going to clean up this mess and get ready for bed."

Greg looked at the clock on the entertainment center. It was only about eight thirty. "So early?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, gathering up the empty pizza box, soda cans, and chip bag. As she carried them to the kitchen, Greg heard her say, "This has been a tiring day." She had a grin on her face as she came back and stood by the couch in front of Greg. "A great day, considering Chicago kicked Toronto's butt, but very tiring."

Greg and Dean looked at each other and groaned. "Is this ever going to stop?" Greg asked.

Dean shrugged, but Lynn spoke up. "Of course it is," she laughed. "Just not tonight." She leaned down and kissed Greg before walking to the bedroom, still chuckling.

Greg sighed as he relaxed back into the couch. He turned his head toward Dean. "Deano, my boy, I am definitely in love."

A soft laugh escaped Dean as he grabbed the remote to look for something else to watch. "I know, Dad, I can tell," and he leaned back himself as another show came on the screen.

Greg and his son spent the next few hours watching television, not speaking much, but not needing to. Around midnight, they finally decided to call it a night. As Dean walked to his room, Greg stood at the couch and said quietly, "I love you, son."

Dean turned around, a smile on his face. "I love you, too, Dad," and he shut his bedroom door behind him.

Greg walked quietly into his own room and undressed. After finishing up his nightly routine in the bathroom, he went to the bed and stood there for a moment, gazing down at the sleeping woman. She was on her side facing him, her head on her arm. Her blonde curls were spread over the pillow, and her lips were parted slightly. He felt his heart clench as he watched her sleep, and he gently slipped into bed beside her, brushing a few errant curls out of her face. Tenderly kissing her forehead, he whispered, "I love you, Lynn, with all that I am," before settling in on his side with his hand on her hip. It wasn't long before sleep claimed him, and that night, he dreamed of a golden-haired beauty in a Blackhawks jersey who made him feel complete.


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

The next morning, Greg woke before Lynn, and he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before silently slipping out of bed. He wanted some time to himself before she woke up so that he could do a little research on his possible solution to their problem. He slipped into sweats and a T-shirt and grabbed his laptop bag as he went out the door, closing it softly behind him. He situated himself on the couch and opened the computer. Logging on, he quickly pulled up the official website for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. He found the page he was looking for and began to read. As he did, he became more and more excited. He opened another tab and brought up a map of the area around Ottawa. He grinned as he looked up several locations. He sent out a number of emails requesting information, and he started to type a list of things that would have to happen for his plan to work.

His back was to the hallway, and he was so absorbed in what he was doing that he completely lost track of time.

"The Mounties, Dad? Really? Something tells me they won't let you anywhere near a horse."

Greg jumped and whipped around to face his son. "Geez, Dean, don't sneak up on me like that!" He looked at the screen and saw that it was eight o'clock. He had been on the computer for three hours.

"Sneak? I was practically stomping. Anyway, what's this about the Mounties? Are you looking for me? If you are..."

"No, not for you. Look at this," and Greg pointed to the screen.

As Dean looked closer, he saw what his dad was reading. His eyes went wide, and he circled the couch to sit down without taking them off the screen. He scooted Greg over with his hip and began reading intently. When he got to the end of the page, he turned to Greg.

"Are you seriously thinking about this? I mean, it would be cool, but why?"

Greg was about to answer when his bedroom door opened, and Lynn walked out, dressed in his white robe. She yawned and said, "What would be cool?"

Dean looked at Greg and whispered, "Have you talked to her about this yet?"

Greg watched the woman he loved. "Not yet, but I guess now is as good a time as any." He turned and raised his eyebrows at Dean.

Dean got the hint, nodded, stood up, and headed to the bathroom. "Good morning, Lynn," he said as he passed her.

"Good morning," she replied. With crinkled brow, she walked to the couch and sat down. "What are you two talking about?"

Pushing the computer back so that she could see, Greg said, "I am thinking of a career change." He pointed at the screen and waited as Lynn processed the information on it. The career change for him was only the first part of his plan. The rest of it all hinged on Lynn's approval, since she would have to make more of a lifestyle change than he would.

She looked at Greg, confusion evident on her face. "I don't understand, what do the Mounties have to do with anything? You can't ride a horse, can you?"

Greg let out a small laugh, "That was Dean's first reaction, too, but look closer."

Lynn looked at him askance, but did as he bade. At the top of the page was the banner for the RCMP, but when she scrolled down, she read _Behavioural Sciences: Criminal Investigative Analysis_. She continued to read, and Greg saw a smile forming. When she finished, she said, "Profiling? Is this what you are thinking of switching to?"

"I'd really like to," Greg replied. "After the incident with Wallace, I felt like I was back doing what I was born to do: negotiating. While profiling isn't exactly the same, there are very similar skills needed for both. In order to successfully negotiate a subject, I had to have a profile on them first. Without knowing about them and the situation, negotiation would have been useless, as it often was. When we didn't get the chance to understand what was going on, things tended not to end well. So, I look at it like this: I have been profiling subjects for over ten years. If I can't do it in the field anymore, then maybe I can do it from behind a desk." He looked at Dean. "As much as I like teaching at the college, it just isn't enough. I feel like I have a lot more to give than that."

Lynn nodded in agreement and laid her hand on his arm. "You know that I will support you in whatever you choose to do, Greg," she said.

He smiled at her and leaned over to give her a loving kiss. "Thank you, sweetheart, that means a lot to me."

"So," she said, looking back at the screen, "this says the branch is based out of Ottawa. How far is that from here?"

"About a five hour drive, give or take."

"Wow, that's quite a drive." She turned so she was facing him. "Are you sure you'd be okay being that far away from your family and friends?"

Greg smiled slightly. _Only if you are close to me._ Out loud he said, "I think so. It's still close enough that a weekend trip is not out of the question, but I was thinking that I wouldn't live in Ottawa."

Lynn was confused. "What do you mean? You couldn't possibly live here and work there. That would be nuts."

Greg closed his eyes took a deep breath, and held it for a long moment. Releasing it slowly, he opened his eyes and saw concern on Lynn's face.

"Greg?"

He reached for her hands and held them tightly in his. Locking gazes with her, he sent up a silent prayer that she would agree with what he was about to say.

"Lynn, my love, I have thought of a way for us to be together, but it would require you to make some pretty serious changes in your life, so I have a question for you." He took another deep breath and continued, "Would you ever consider moving to New York?"

Lynn pulled back slightly and blinked her eyes. Bewilderment blanketed her face, and she looked at Greg quizzically. "New York? I...I've never thought about it, why?"

"Well," Greg replied, turning to the computer and clicking on the tab for the map of Ottawa, "this is what I have discovered. There is a New York border town called Ogdensburg that is only about sixty miles from Ottawa. We could live there, and I could commute across the border to Ottawa."

"But..." Lynn stopped and shook her head. "But what about my school? What about my family?" She looked at Greg like he was crazy.

Greg nodded and looked down at her hand, which he was still holding. He gently began to trace small circles on the back of it with his thumb. "That's why I said there'd be serious changes for you. Like me, you'd have to make a career change. Remember when you told me that you were thinking of starting a second school?" Lynn nodded. "I know you were talking about one in Colorado, but what if you started it in New York instead? We'd both have to move away from our families and friends, but the big difference is that we'd only be a few hours' drive from my family, but we'd be thousands of miles from yours."

Lynn opened her mouth to say something, but then she closed it slowly. She looked at Greg, considering his proposition and then turned to the computer. She sat quietly for a few, very long minutes, just looking at the map. Then she reached over and started scrolling around, zooming in and out, switching from map view to satellite view. Meanwhile, Greg simply watched her, seeing the wheels turning in her head as she thought about what he had said, worry building steadily in his mind as the minutes passed in silence. When she finally turned back to him and spoke, her words were slow and deliberate. "Greg, I love my family dearly. I have my first grandchild on the way, and I need to be with them right now. That said, you know how much I love you. I want to be with you, too." She stopped and gazed into his eyes as she thought. Finally, she squeezed his hand and smiled. "I think your plan might work, but not right away. I have to figure out what to do with my school in Colorado, and I want to be with my daughter for at least several months. But, after that, I would move anywhere in the world to be with you."

Greg released the breath he had been holding in a rush. His face broke out into a huge grin. "Yeah? You really mean that?"

Lynn smiled and released Greg's hand to drape both of her arms over his shoulders. "Yeah, I really mean it." She suddenly became serious as her hands began to caress his head and neck. "I love you, Greg, with all that I am." She leaned forward and brushed his lips with hers as she slowly closed her eyes.

Greg groaned and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her close. His hands slipped around her and began stroking her back. He tried to deepen the kiss, but Lynn continued to tease him with only the slightest hint of contact. Frustrated, Greg growled softly as he shifted his hands, one to the back of her head, and the other to her cheek. He held her still as he crushed his lips to hers, eliciting a deep moan from her. She parted her lips to give him access, and they were lost in each other.

"Ahem! Get a room, guys!"

Greg reluctantly released Lynn, but held her gaze as his lips twitched upward. "We have a room, son. We just couldn't seem to get to it in time. Good thing you came in; no telling how far we would have gone."

He heard Dean gag behind him. "Oh, that's great, Dad! Just the picture I want in my head!"

Lynn started laughing and buried her face in Greg's shoulder. He held her as his own chuckles escaped him, and he heard Dean huff in disgust and go into the kitchen.

When she was composed, she raised her head. "So, what's the next step in your grand plan?"

Greg sat back and rested his head on the back of the couch. "Well, first of all, I have to be accepted into the RCMP. I'll put in my application tomorrow, but it will probably be quite a while before I know anything. If I am accepted, then I can start making plans to move and get things set up for us, but if I'm not, we'll have to come up with a Plan B."

Lynn laid her head on his shoulder and curled her feet up beside her as he slipped his arm around her and began running his hand up and down her arm. She began tracing circles on his thigh. "Well," she said, "I suppose I can start doing some research about starting a second school - demographics, laws, location, and such. I don't know anything about New York, so that will take some time. By the time I get that done, maybe you'll know if you're moving to Ottawa."

"Mmmm, that sounds like a plan." He kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer to him. They sat quietly for a few moments, and then he sighed. "You know, as much as I could spend the rest of my life sitting here with you, we need to get up and start cooking. But first..." He stood up and held out his hand. "First, we need to shower. I'm not going to prepare food before being clean."

Lynn smiled and put her hand in his, allowing his to pull her to her feet. "I take it that's an invitation?"

"Of course it is!" Greg looked conspiratorially toward the kitchen where they could hear the sounds of Dean making his breakfast. "And if we move quickly, we don't even have to embarrass my son by letting him know what we're doing."

Laughing, Lynn followed him into the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Suddenly, Greg spun around and grabbed her hips, quietly pushing her up against the door. Running his eyes up and down her body, he let his hands move to the collar of her robe. "Or," he whispered, "we could always get a little dirty before we get clean." His hands slipped underneath the fabric and slowly pushed it off her shoulders far enough to trap her arms in the robe. Her eyes drifted closed as he pressed his body against hers and lowered his mouth to her collarbone. He began to nip and suckle the tender skin, causing Lynn to moan. She was wearing a negligee beneath the robe, and Greg used his teeth to gently pull one strap over her shoulder before licking his way back to her neck. When he got to her ear, he whispered huskily, "Shh, remember Dean is here. You've got to keep the volume down." He raised his head to look at her, the smile on his face also filling his brown eyes.

"Not just me," she whispered back. "I guess we'll see just how much control you really have, Sergeant Parker," and she ground her hips against his, feeling him instantly respond. Greg's smile fled, and a low groan escaped his throat. "Shh," she teased, "keep it quiet."

He growled softly and pressed his lips to hers. As he teased them with his teeth and tongue, he slowly lowered the second strap of her negligee, letting his hands continue to push the silky fabric down to expose her breasts. Her arms were still trapped, and he flicked his thumbs over her nipples as he plunged his tongue into her mouth. He swallowed the moans coming from her and cupped each breast, softly kneading them while occasionally using his fingers and thumbs to pinch her nipples into hardened nubs. She was breathing heavily when he released her mouth and lowered his head to her chest. Replacing one hand with his mouth, he slowly traced that hand down her belly, past the knotted tie of her robe, down to the juncture of her legs. He let his hand slide through the opening of the robe and glide up her inner thigh, stopping just at the edge of her panties.

"Greg, please!"

He released her breast just long enough to answer, "Please what?" He moved his free hand behind her back as he directed his attention to her other breast.

"Release my arms. Please let me touch you!"

Greg chuckled, the vibration against her breast causing Lynn to gasp and push her hips into his hand. "No, I don't think so. I'm having too much fun," and he suddenly stood up straight, capturing her eyes with his as he moved her panties aside and slid a finger into her wet opening, tweaking her clit with his thumb while beginning to move his hand slowly.

Lynn cried out softly, the sound catching in her throat as Greg felt her legs buckle slightly. He tightened his grip around her waist and pressed up against her more securely. He was enjoying watching her try to be quiet, since that was definitely not the norm for either one of them. As he slid another finger in, he moved his lips to her ear and gently nipped the lobe. "Tell me what you want," he whispered sensuously, allowing his tongue to dart out.

She was panting heavily now, but somehow managed to have the presence of mind to answer, "Anything?" she rasped out.

"Anything," he answered, again taking her earlobe between his teeth. "Your wish is my command."

"Then I want you to go down on me," she said, passion filling her voice.

"Hmmm," Greg hummed, and he looked her in the eye, "I think that can be arranged," and he removed his hand from her, grabbed her around the waist, and carried her to the bed. Situating her so that she was sitting on the bed, her legs draped over the side, Greg quickly untied the robe and slowly opened it. He pushed her legs apart with his good knee and leaned forward to kiss her seductively. He pulled her arms out of the robe, and her hands immediately went to the back of his head, pulling him closer as they explored the caverns of each other's mouth. He broke contact and slowly began to kiss and lick his way across her jaw and down her neck. Her hands didn't move until he gently pulled her up just enough to slip her negligee over her head, and then they instantly returned to their former location. He pushed her back onto the bed, grabbed her waist, and scooted her back until she was completely on the bed. He covered her body with his own and then continued kissing his way down her body, with only a cursory stop at her breasts, until he reached her hips. He raised his head as he slipped her underwear off.

Grabbing her ankles, he pushed her legs up so that her feet were flat on the bed. She let her knees fall apart as he lowered his head to her belly and began placing soft kisses around her bellybutton. He took one finger and slowly ran it between her legs, feeling her wetness and heat. As he continued to caress her with his hand, he dropped his head lower until he was able to replace his finger with his tongue. He softly traced her outer folds, allowing only the slightest contact with her clit. He continued this torturous process until he felt Lynn's hands tighten on his head, attempting to pull it closer to her. She raised her hips toward him, but he drew back, keeping the connection to a bare minimum.

"Greg!" she gasped, trying her hardest not to scream. "Please, no more teasing!"

That was what he was waiting for, and he instantly licked his way between her folds, the pressure causing Lynn to cry out. Greg felt her hands leave his head, and the cry was suddenly cut off. Greg looked up in confusion. He chuckled when he saw that Lynn had grabbed a pillow and was holding it tightly over her face to muffle her cries. He returned to his ministrations, taking Lynn's bud between his lips. Using his lips, teeth, and tongue, he began exploring her intimately, and, even with the pillow, he could still hear her groaning loudly. He concentrated his motions on her clit and quickly slid two fingers into her. She gasped and bucked her hips up, and he felt her tightly grip his shoulder. He began to move his fingers in and out as his teeth and tongue manipulated her swollen bud, and it wasn't long before he felt her inner walls clench his hand and a violent shudder flowed through her entire body. She was grasping him so tightly that he thought she might leave a bruise, and her cries were loud enough that the pillow wasn't able to muffle them completely.

He continued his movements until he felt her relax, and then he slowly pulled his fingers from her, slid his body up hers, letting her feel his arousal, and removed the pillow from her face. She was breathing quickly and shallowly, her eyes were closed, and there was a satisfied smile on her face.

"Happy?" he quipped.

She didn't speak, but simply nodded her head. He rested his head on one hand as he slowly traced her temple with one finger of the other. He used his fingertips to gently caress her eyes, her lips, her jawline. He pushed her hair back from her face and whispered, "Not falling asleep again, are you?"

"No," she said, opening her eyes. The fire in their brilliant blue startled Greg momentarily, and then she pulled his head down into a steamy kiss. It continued as he felt Lynn's hands move to the hem of his T-shirt, and they broke contact for the short moment it took to peel it off before locking together again. He felt himself harden even more as she slipped her hands down his back to his hips. She reached into the waistband of his sweats and pushed them down along with his boxers. His member sprang free, and she immediately grasped it in one hand. He released her mouth with a gasp, and groaned as she began to stroke him.

"Now it's your time to be quiet," she teased, and he quickly realized why she had grabbed the pillow. He lowered his head to her shoulder and attempted to dampen his own noises in her. With her free hand, she slowly grazed his back with her fingernails, and she used one foot to pushed his pants and boxers down to his feet. He somehow managed to kick them off onto the floor, and as she stroked, she guided him to her still-wet opening. When she placed him just outside and released him, he let his control go and quickly entered her with one thrust. They both gasped, and then he began to slowly move within her. Their passion began to build rapidly, and it wasn't long before his slow movements accelerated. As Greg began to move faster, Lynn wrapped her legs around his waist, using her leg muscles to pull him in deeply with each plunge. He moved one hand underneath her hips and pulled them up as he continued to drive himself into her. He placed the other on the bed next to her head for balance and began to furiously pump his hips, pounding into her. They came at the same time, and Lynn clenched her teeth, trying desperately not to cry out, and managing to keep everything in except a loud, high-pitched whimper, while Greg grunted and pressed his face into the covers by her shoulder.

"Oh, God, Lynn," he rasped, as his whole body trembled violently.

Wave after wave of pleasure swept over them, and they held each other tightly until they relaxed, Greg rolling off to the side so as not to crush Lynn. As they lay on their backs next to each other, waiting for their breathing and heartbeats to return to normal, Greg couldn't help thinking that, if all the details of his plan worked out, he would have this woman by his side every night. The thought made him catch his breath, and he turned his head toward Lynn. He was not surprised to see that she was looking right at him, and he could see the love in her eyes, mirroring the love in his own. She shifted her body and rolled onto her side, and then she kissed Greg softly, but sensuously. He pulled her down on top of him as they kissed, and when they stopped, she raised her head and smiled. "I love you, darling, with all that I am."

He felt tears behind his eyes as his heart swelled with love for her. Raising one hand, he gently moved her hair out of her eyes and whispered softly, "And I love you, sweetheart, with all that I am."

She gave him another quick kiss before gliding off of him and climbing off the bed. He sat up and swung his feet onto the floor so that she was standing in front of him.

"Come on," she said, pulling him to his feet and heading for the bathroom, "that dinner won't cook itself."

Greg laughed and allowed her to lead him to the shower, relishing the idea that this might one day become a daily occurrence. He allowed his fantasies to roam as they stepped into the hot water and began to gently wash each other.


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

As Greg and Lynn emerged from the bedroom, dressed much more formally than before they went in, with Greg in black jeans and a white oxford shirt and Lynn wearing a dark brown, calf-length dress, they were surprised to find that Dean was not in the apartment. He had left a note on the kitchen counter that read, _Have gone out to get drinks. Didn't want to interrupt. Be back soon. _Greg chuckled as he read the note, once again feeling the love and appreciation he had for his son fill his heart. He was overjoyed that Dean accepted Lynn without reservations, and he felt truly blessed to have him in his life again.

Lynn took the note from Greg, read it, and smiled, giving him a quick kiss. "You have a wonderful son, you know that?"

"Oh, believe me, I know." He turned and leaned his back against the counter. "I don't know that I'd be where I am today if Dean hadn't let me back in. Right around the time he came back to Toronto, I was definitely not in a good place mentally or emotionally. Every case I worked on seemed to remind me that I had destroyed any chance of ever seeing or holding my boy again. I took trips down to Dallas to see him, but Joanne wouldn't even open the door. I assumed that Dean felt as she did, and that he wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn't really blame him; after all, I hadn't been the best father, but I thought I had changed, and I really wanted him to know that. It just seemed like every time I tried to tell him, I was rejected. Imagine my surprise when he showed up at the station, telling me that he was going to take his stepfather's last name."

Lynn gasped. Greg had never told her this story before. Sure, she had known that they had been estranged, but she thought it was just because Dean had lived in the U.S., and Greg lived in Canada. "What changed his mind?"

"I'm not sure; I guess maybe I did." He reached out and took Lynn's hands in his own and looked down at them as he traced circles on their backs with his thumbs. "He was going to leave, and we got a call. It was about a little girl who we thought had been kidnapped. I had to leave Dean at the station, and I truly expected him to be gone when I got back. As I walked out the door with my team, I thought that would be the last time I'd ever see him. But Winnie let him listen in on the call, and he was still there when we got back. The first thing he asked me was if the little girl was okay."

"Was she?" The question came out as no more than a whisper.

Greg nodded without looking away from her hands. "Yeah, she was." He chuckled. "I offered to buy Dean a pizza, and he told me that he'd cook us some pasta. That completely floored me, but I wasn't about to say no. We came back here, he cooked dinner, and we talked all night." He sighed, but when he raised his eyes to Lynn's, there was a smile on his face. "He asked me all the hard questions: why wasn't I there for him, why did his mother take him away, why didn't I come looking for him. I told him the truth, that I was in a very dark place when he was little, and Joanne took him to protect him and her, and that I didn't try to contact him for all those years because at first, I was too messed up to care, and, afterwards, I thought that he wouldn't want to see me. He told me that was true for a long time, but that if I had tried to see him, he would have done anything to make that happen. I told him how I had come to Dallas, and he was shocked. Apparently, Joanne never told him I came down. It took a long time that night, but eventually, he reconciled his feelings with my actions and his mother's actions, and he told me that he was glad he had come to Toronto. Since then, my life has been drastically different. I have my son back with me, and now," he squeezed her hands and pulled her closer, "now I have you, as well." He placed a gentle kiss on her lips, and she moved their still-clasped hands to her chest. He rested his forehead against hers and closed his eyes contentedly. "With Dean, I became complete as a father again, but with you, Lynn, I am complete as a man." His voice dropped to a whisper, "I love you."

Lynn smiled and closed her eyes, also. "I love you, too, Greg, more than you will ever know."

They stood there silently for a long moment, and then Greg opened his eyes and gently pushed Lynn back. "We really need to get this dinner started, or we won't be able to eat before..." he stopped and frowned.

Lynn sighed deeply as she released his hands and moved to the refrigerator. "Before I have to leave," she finished for him, not looking at him. Greg could hear her voice tremble, though, and he quickly pulled her back to him and embraced her tightly.

"Lynn, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up now. I wanted this to be the perfect Thanksgiving for all of us, and now I've ruined it." He kissed the top of her head, and felt her take a deep breath.

She pulled out of his embrace and looked up at him, a sad smile on her lips. "No you didn't, my love. We knew I had to go back, and the things we have to be thankful for haven't changed." She raised one hand and traced his bottom lip with her thumb.

Greg smiled and gently kissed the pad of her thumb. "You're right," he said simply. "Now, let's get cooking!"

As they began to assemble all of the necessary ingredients, they heard the front door open. Dean came back with a six-pack of Diet Coke and another of Sprite, which he placed in the refrigerator after pulling off a Sprite for himself. He was amazed when he saw that Lynn was actually helping his dad prepare the meal, since he had been at the defensive end of some of Greg's more spirited attacks when protecting his kitchen. He left the two of them to cook, however, and they soon heard the sounds of hockey coming from the television.

The next few hours were spent washing vegetables, preparing the meat, making stuffing, and other traditional Thanksgiving preparations. After they placed everything in the oven to cook,they came out and joined Dean in the living room. He was watching a game between the Minnesota Wild and the Buffalo Sabres, which had just started. Nobody much cared who won the game, so it was just a comfortable time, enjoying each other's company while idly talking about nothing of consequence. As the game went on, wonderful smells began to waft from the kitchen, and when the game concluded, the three of them followed the smells.

Dean got out dishes and silverware and began to set the table as Greg and Lynn checked the food. It was done to perfection, and they carried the various components out to the table - Cornish hens, mashed potatoes, homemade cranberry sauce, salad, and yams. Setting everything down, they took their seats, with Greg at the head of the table, Lynn at his right side, and Dean at his left. Greg held out his hands, and the other two took them. They bowed their heads while Greg said a quick prayer of thanksgiving, and then they began filling their plates. Just before they began to eat, Dean spoke up.

"I'd like to start with telling what we are thankful for, if that's all right with you two."

"That's fine, son," Greg said, and Lynn nodded her agreement.

"Okay, then, I am thankful that you have come into my dad's life, Lynn. I can't remember ever seeing him this happy. Neither my mom or Marina was able to give him the contentment I see, and I know for a fact that he never loved either one of them as much as he loves you. And, Dad, I am thankful that we are a family again. I know it's been five years since I came back to Toronto, but every Thanksgiving, I am reminded about how blessed I am to have you back in my life."

Greg felt the tears building behind his eyes, and he swallowed thickly against the lump in his throat. "Thank you, Deano," he managed. "I am just as thankful that you let me be your father again. For years, I felt like I had no right to be that, and I will never cease to thank you for allowing me to show you how much I love you." He reached a hand out and patted Dean's arm before turning to Lynn. "My love, I am more thankful than I can express that you came to me when I needed you the most. I was beginning to climb out of the dark place I was in after I got injured, but it was you that pulled me out the rest of the way."

Lynn took his hand in hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I can't put my feelings into any better words than that, Greg. I am thankful for you in my life, as well. You showed me that it was not only possible to love again, but that is was okay to love again, that John would have wanted me to be happy. And I am happy, Greg, happier than I could ever imagine. And, Dean," she looked at the young man and smiled, "thank you for accepting me in your dad's life. I know that sometimes it's hard to come to terms with a parent dating, and, I just wanted to say that I am eternally grateful that you have done just that. I also want to extend that gratefulness to my own family, as they are slowly coming to accept it as well."

She turned back to Greg as he pulled her close for a kiss, and then they began eating. The talk over dinner was light, and all too soon, the meal was over, and the three of them were in the kitchen washing up. Dean finished putting the leftovers in the refrigerator, and then he went into the living room, where he began watching a movie on the TV. Greg and Lynn did the dishes slowly, as if by doing so, they could extend the amount of time left before they had to drive to the airport. Soon, however, the last dish was put in the dishwasher, and they knew that there was only about an hour left before they had to leave.

Greg pulled Lynn close, and she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They stood there silently for a few minutes, Greg's cheek resting on her curls, until he gently took her chin in one hand and tilted her face up to his. He gazed into her brilliant blue eyes for a long moment and then slowly brought his lips to hers, brushing across them sensuously before whispering harshly, "God, Lynn, I don't want you to go." He threaded his fingers through her hair and drew her in, claiming her mouth with his own, tangling their tongues together in a dance that neither one of them wanted to stop. Their breathing became labored, and Greg quickly spun Lynn around and lifted her up onto the counter. Their lips and tongues continued to ravage each other, and Greg let his hands slip down Lynn's sides and rest on her hips. He pulled her to the edge of the counter, and then he lifted her dress to her thighs and moved to stand between them, pressing himself against her.

Lynn broke contact with his lips and gasped, "Greg! What are you doing? Did you forget your son is in the other room?"

His hands had moved to her legs, and now his thumbs were tracing random patterns on her inner thighs. He looked at her with anguish in his eyes. "No, I haven't forgotten. I'm not suggesting that anything happen here. I just need to feel you close to me. It's going to be way too long before I will be able to touch you again." He rested his head on her chest and moved his hands to her back, softly caressing her while holding her tightly to him. She felt him shudder as he took a deep breath, and she kissed the top of his head as she ran her hands over his head and shoulders. She hooked her heels behind his thighs and pulled him closer still. A low groan, filled with sorrow, escaped him, and Lynn's eyes filled with tears. She closed her eyes and rested her head in the same position his had been previously, and soon, Greg felt a cold wetness as the tears slipped from the corners of her eyes and fell on his head. He didn't move, however, even when her tears dripped down his face, mingling with the moisture from his own eyes, slowly soaking the front of Lynn's dress.

They stood there for a long time, and then Greg slowly lifted his head. He smiled softly when he saw the wet spot just over her breasts, and he reached toward the sink to grab a hand towel. As he gently wiped her cheeks, he said, "Boy, we sure made a mess, didn't we?"

Lynn chuckled and took the towel from him. Not only did she wipe his face, but she also dried the top of his head. "Well, you only made a mess of you; I made a mess of both of us."

"That's all right, my love, I don't mind," he replied, the smile still on his lips. It disappeared with his next words, however. "We should really be getting your luggage ready, sweetheart. We don't have much time left."

Lynn's own smile fled, and she could feel more tears forming, but she refused to let them fall. She nodded and said, "I suppose you're right," and she let Greg lift her down from the counter. He placed one arm around her shoulder, and the two of them slowly walked out of the kitchen and into his bedroom.

As Lynn changed into black slacks and a light gray sweater, Greg lifted her suitcase onto the bed. Since she had only been there a few days, she hadn't unpacked it, and it didn't take long to repack the few items she had removed. She then turned to Greg and said, "I'd like to take a walk before I leave. Do we have time?"

Looking at his watch, Greg replied, "Sure, but it's going to be cold."

"That's okay. I just really want to be outside right now."

Greg nodded, and they went into the living room, Greg pulling her suitcase behind him. "Dean? We're going to be heading out to the airport. Do you want to come?" He looked at his son, who was lounging on the couch.

Dean looked somewhat guilty as he sat up straight. "To be honest, not really. Is it okay with you guys if I just say goodbye from here?"

Laughing, Lynn stepped up to the couch. Dean quickly stood up, and she pulled him into a hug, which he returned. "I don't mind at all, Dean. Thank you for a wonderful visit."

"Thank you for coming." They separated. "And I hope you have a safe flight home."

"Thanks." She stepped back and said, "I want to take this opportunity to ask you if you'd like to come to Colorado for our Thanksgiving next month. Your dad is coming, and I would love it if you accompanied him."

"I would be honored. I'd like to spend some more time getting to know your family."

"Great! I'll be planning for it, then."

Greg slapped his son on the back and then he and Lynn put on their coats and went out the door. Greg put her suitcase in the trunk of his car before taking her hand in his.

"We still have about thirty minutes before we have to drive to the airport. Is there anywhere in particular you wanted to walk?"

"No, not really."

"Okay, then." He guided her down the sidewalk, only walking a few feet before slipping his arm around her, pulling her into his side. Her arm encircled his waist, and she put her hand in his coat pocket, resting her head on his shoulder. They walked without speaking, and they soon reached the park at the end of his block.

The October night air was crisp and clear, and their breath made small clouds as it exited their lips. Lynn shivered, and Greg pulled her closer.

"I told you it was cold."

She nodded and simply tightened her grip on his waist. "That's all right; it gives me an excuse to be even closer to you."

He inhaled in mock consternation. "You need an excuse for that? And here I thought that you wanted to be close to me."

Reaching over, she lightly slapped his stomach, causing him to grunt dramatically. "Silly, of course I want to. Don't be so literal."

Greg chuckled, and they continued to stroll through the park, stopping when they reached the deserted playground.

"Ooh! Push me on the swings!" Lynn slipped out of his grasp and danced over to the swingset, plopping down in the closest seat. She dangled her legs and looked over her shoulder at Greg, smiling in anticipation.

A full laugh came from Greg as he moved behind her and took the chains in his hands. He pulled back and let her go, pushing her higher with every swing. After she reached the highest possible point, he moved to where he could watch her face. He was enchanted to see the happy smile on her face and to hear her delighted laughter. He leaned against the metal bar and couldn't help smiling himself as she pumped her legs and swung higher and higher. Eventually, she let herself drift to a stop, and he reached out to hold the chain as she slid out of the seat. She flung her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips. His arms went around her, and he returned the kiss eagerly. It was not a long kiss, and when they separated, she had a large grin on her face.

"Oh, thank you, Greg! It's been so long since I've been on a swing. That was fun!"

"You're welcome," he said, grinning almost as widely. "Thank you for letting me watch. That was fun, too."

They walked on for a few more minutes before Greg turned them around and they made their way back to his car. The frivolity of the playground was gone by the time they reached it, however, and as Greg opened the door for Lynn and held her hand to steady her as she got in, he heard her sigh deeply. After sliding in behind the wheel, he pulled away from the curb. They didn't speak as they drove through the sparse Thanksgiving traffic, and Lynn kept her gaze on the passing buildings outside her window. Greg stole a few glances at her when he could do so safely, but she never looked at him.

Walking into the terminal, the silence continued, and Lynn still wouldn't make eye contact with him. He could see that she was trying hard not to cry, and so he didn't try to make her talk. When the check-in process was completed, there were only about twenty minutes left before she would have to start the process of customs and the boarding of the plane. The two of them took seats outside of customs and settled in to wait. Greg moved the armrest between the seats up and drew Lynn in closely. As her head rested on his shoulder, he felt her start to tremble.

"My love, what's wrong?" His voice was filled with concern.

She turned her face into him, and her words were muffled against his chest as he felt her breathing hitch. "You know what's wrong, Greg! I don't want to leave you again!" She clutched at his shirt with both hands and began to sob.

Greg tilted his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he attempted to control his own tears. He enveloped her in his arms and held on tightly. He cupped the back of her head and held it to him. He lowered his head until his mouth was at her ear. "Shh, it will be okay. It's not forever." He continued to whisper platitudes to her, wondering who he was trying to convince, her or himself. Slowly, she quieted, but she didn't move or even release her grip on his shirt. Greg placed a gentle kiss on her temple and looked at his watch.

"Damn!" The curse was breathed more than spoken, but Lynn heard it nonetheless.

Without so much as a shift in position, she spoke quietly, "It's time, isn't it?"

Greg drew in a long breath and held it for a moment before releasing it slowly. "Yes," he whispered, hating the fact that he had to say it.

Lynn slowly raised her head and relaxed her hands. She looked at him, her eyes shining from the tears she had shed. His own eyes shone with the tears he had not let fall. She lifted one hand to gently caress his cheek and then leaned in for a soft, but passionate kiss, and then she stood, pulling him up with her. Without speaking, they walked to the customs counter and joined the line. When they reached the counter, Greg showed his credentials and informed the customs agent that he was escorting Mrs. Mitchell to her plane. The agent needed no further explanation, and Greg waited as Lynn went through the necessary procedures. After a while, they were on their way to the gate. They didn't sit, but instead looked out the window at the plane, hands intertwined. Customs had taken a little longer than expected, and so there was very little time before the first boarding call was announced. Lynn leaned into Greg, and he held her to him as they continued to gaze out the window. Again, Lynn waited until the final boarding call to move away from Greg. When she did, she looked into his chocolate eyes and whispered, "I love you, Greg, with all that I am."

He raised her hand to his lips and placed a tender kiss on her knuckles. He then whispered, his heart in his voice, "And I love you, with all that I am." She leaned in for one last kiss before pulling away from him and moving quickly to the gangway. He could see her shoulders shaking as she gave the agent her ticket, and the anguish in her eyes as she looked back at him tore at his heart. He saw a single tear trickle down from her eye, and then she was gone, moving quickly toward the plane, practically running, as if she couldn't stand to extend the torture one more minute.

Greg watched until she turned the corner and was out of sight, and then he swiftly left the airport, his eyebrows drawn together, his teeth clenched, and his mouth set in a grim line. The people around him moved out of his way as he walked with a determined step, his limp not slowing him down in the least. He could hear the tapping of his cane, but it was as if it came from a far distance. He didn't remember the walk to his car, and he suddenly found himself standing by the driver's side door. He realized that he was breathing heavily, and he rested his forehead on the car for a moment, willing his heartbeat and his breathing to slow, with no effect. He opened the door and got in. As soon as he shut the door, he took a deep breath and inhaled the remnant of Lynn's perfume that lingered in the air. Instantly, desire filled him, and the unfairness of the situation made anger and sorrow well up. He looked up at the roof of the car and let loose a primal roar. He pounded the steering wheel with his fists, and he continued to bellow out his rage and heartache until his throat was raw and he could feel the bruises on his hands. He finally stopped and rested his head on the wheel, his hands gripping the rubber covering tightly. He was gasping for breath, and he was not surprised to find that he was also crying. He sat there, attempting to get control of himself. It took a long time, and, even when he felt like he was okay to drive, the occasional tear still managed to squeeze its way out of the corner of his eye.

When he finally got back to his apartment, Dean was still up. He was sitting on the couch, working on his laptop. He looked up as Greg came through the door, and one look at his dad told him that something was wrong.

"Dad? What happened? Did something happen to Lynn?"

Greg shook his head. "No," he croaked. He cleared his throat and continued, "She's fine, but..." He sat down heavily on the couch and put his head in his hands.

"But what?"

Rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, Greg leaned back and rested his head on the back of the couch. He dropped his hands to his lap and turned his face toward Dean. Dean was shocked to see how red and swollen his dad's eyes were, but he didn't speak. Greg's brow crinkled as he tried to hold in the agony. "But she's gone, son." He inhaled and looked up at the ceiling. "Ah, Dean, I don't know if I can do this again. Every time she leaves, I feel like my heart has been ripped from me. I can't handle it. I miss her so damn much already, and it's only been an hour or so. It'll be another five weeks before I can be with her, touch her, kiss her." He closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.

Dean reached a hand over and placed it gently on Greg's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Dad. I didn't realize what this separation was doing to you. I want you to know that I'm always here for you if you want to talk."

The kindness in his son's voice and in his offer almost caused Greg to lose control again, but he was all cried out. Instead, he raised his head and looked at Dean. He covered his son's hand with his own and softly said, "Thank you, Dean, that means a lot. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll just go to bed. After all, we both have school tomorrow."

Dean nodded, and Greg stood up slowly. He walked to his bedroom, and Dean could see the slump in his shoulders and the dragging of his steps. It pained him deeply to see his dad in such pain, especially because he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to help relieve it.

After taking a shower, Greg slid into bed. He grabbed Lynn's pillow and held it tightly to him, breathing in the minty scent of her shampoo mixed with the scent that meant her. Eventually, he fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

Greg woke early the next morning and drove to the college. When he got there, the first thing he did was pick up the phone and contact the Behavioural Sciences Branch of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Talking to an agent, he expressed his desire to work in their Criminal Investigative Analysis department, and he asked what the steps were to begin the process of applying. The agent took down his personal information and told him to email him his resume; he would make sure that it got to the right people. Greg thanked him and immediately after hanging up, did just that.

He knew that now all he had to do was to wait for them to contact him back, so he called Lynn. It was only about six o'clock her time, but he knew she would be already be at the school, getting ready for the day. She picked up on the first ring.

"Greg!" Her voice was cheerful, but Greg could still hear just a hint of sadness underneath.

"Hello, my love, do you have a minute?"

"Of course; I always have more than a minute for you."

"Well, I just wanted you to know that I sent off my resume to the RCMP."

Greg heard Lynn inhale sharply, and then she said delightedly, "Oh, Greg, I just know this is going to work out. I couldn't sleep last night, so, when I got home, I did some research. The demographics look pretty good. There aren't that many private schools in the area, and a lot of them are Catholic. There's only one that offers high school, so I'd have an advantage there, as well. I also found out that the laws concerning private schools in New York aren't that much different than in Colorado, so there wouldn't be much additional work in starting a new school there. Today, I was planning on looking into some possible locations for the school."

A laugh escaped Greg as he listened to Lynn.

"What's so funny?" Lynn stopped her monologue with an exaggerated huff.

"You are, my dear. I was worried about your reaction to my plan, but right now, you sound even more excited than I am."

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Greg could hear her smile. "That's because I am...excited that is. All the way home I thought about it, and the more I did, the more I realized that you had an inspired idea."

"Inspired? Well, I hadn't thought of it that way, but perhaps you're right." He glanced at the clock and saw that his class started in fifteen minutes. "Listen, Lynn, I've got to go teach. Call me later tonight, okay?"

"All right, if you must." The smile was still evident in her voice, and Greg was heartened to know that she was as happy as possible considering their separation. "I love you, Greg."

"With all that I am, Lynn." He hung up the phone and got his materials ready for class.

The days passed quickly as Greg busied himself in his classes. They kept his mind occupied during the day, and he relished the conversations he had with Lynn every night, especially when they Skyped. Talking to her was great, but seeing her was better, although both of them always caused him to be somewhat depressed for a time afterwards. She told him that she had been talking with her children about her possible move, and, while they weren't thrilled, they had gotten to the point where they understood that she had to do what made her happy, and they knew that meant that she would eventually end up with him somewhere.

Life progressed normally for about a week. During that week, Greg had contacted Tom Conners and discovered that further investigation had shown that the people murdered in the robbery were Wallace's aunt and uncle, so there was a reason for his fingerprints to be at the scene, and he had been released pending trial for the mugging. This information made Greg's determination to help the boy even stronger, and he made Tom promise that he would keep him in the loop regarding court dates and such. Then, on Wednesday when he got back to his office after classes, Greg noticed that there was a message waiting for him on his phone. He pulled up the information and saw that it was from the RCMP in Ottawa. He quickly accessed his messages and listened with bated breath.

"Hello, this is Sergeant Robert Cook from the RCMP Behavioural Sciences Branch in Ottawa. This message is for Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker. Please return my call at 613-555-2098 as soon as possible. Our office hours are from eight o'clock a.m. until five o'clock p.m. Monday through Friday. Thank you."

Greg disconnected the call and slowly put the phone down on his desk. He looked at the clock and saw that it was already after five, so, slightly frustrated, he straightened his papers and went to the cafeteria to get dinner. When he got there, he saw a group of other instructors at a table, and after getting his food, he asked them if he could join them. When they responded affirmatively, he sat down and tried to get involved with their conversation, but his mind kept drifting toward the message. There was absolutely no indication in the message itself of what kind of situation he was in - whether the RCMP was calling to tell him they wanted to talk to him further, or if they were calling to reject him outright.

"Greg? Is everything all right?" Aaron Teague, an instructor in police vehicle operations, was a good friend who had been one of the first people at the college to really get close to Greg. Being Head Instructor, Greg had found that many of the instructors kept him at arm's length, as if it would be a breach in protocol to be too friendly. Aaron wasn't like that, however, and they'd had many conversations over the last year and a half. Aaron knew about Lynn, and he knew that she had left Canada again not too long ago.

"What? Oh, yeah, Aaron, everything's fine." Greg took a deep breath and looked around the table. Everyone was looking at him, leading him to believe that he had been in his own head for quite a while. "I just got a message of which I am unsure of the portent. It could be a great thing, and it could be just another letdown."

"Is it about Lynn?"

"Not directly, but it does affect her." Greg left it at that, for even though all the other instructors at the table knew about his relationship, he didn't really want to elaborate until he knew more. He sighed and continued, "I'll find out tomorrow morning exactly what's going on."

"Well, until then, maybe you can live in this world for a while," Aaron said with a grin.

Greg smiled and pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind. He focused on his food and what his companions were saying, and the rest of dinner was a very pleasant experience. When they were finished, they said their goodbyes and retired to their respective rooms.

There were still a few hours before Greg could expect a call from Lynn, so he decided to go to the gym. He changed into his workout clothes and grabbed a towel before heading out the door. When he got to the gym, it was full of cadets and instructors, and it took a moment before Greg realized that all the machines were taken. He decided to focus on his body weight routine. He found an open spot on the mats and nodded a greeting to the others around him. He spent the next half hour or so doing situps and pushups before moving to a chinup bar and working on his upper body. By the time he finished with that, there was an open weight machine, so he claimed it. It was about eight o'clock when he finally made it back to his room, sweaty and tired, but still invigorated.

Opening the door, he dropped his gym bag on the floor and peeled his sopping wet T-shirt over his head. Walking to the bathroom, he tossed it in the hamper before adding the rest of his clothes. He turned on the water, setting it to an almost scorching temperature. Stepping under the stream, he rested his hands on the wall and let the water pound into his back muscles. Standing there, he started to think of all the things he had been able to set aside while he focused on his body, mainly what he would do if the RCMP rejected him.

He took a deep breath, relishing the feel of the hot water massaging his muscles. He already had a pretty good idea of what he would do if he got the job at Behavioural Sciences. First, of course, he would call Lynn and give her the good news. Then he would offer his resignation at the college and fly to Ottawa to look for a temporary apartment where he would stay until Lynn figured out when she could join him. It was all fairly simple, since, at least at first, the plan only called for him to move and start a new job. People did that all the time, and it wouldn't be that much of an effort. The biggest issue was Lynn leaving her school, but he knew from their conversations that she was already looking into that.

If he didn't get the job, however, he had no idea what he would do. As he finished his shower, he tried to think of options, but the only things he could come up with was either to keep his job at the college and hope that Lynn would agree to move to Canada permanently, or for him to retire completely and move to Colorado. Neither of those options appealed to him because he definitely was not ready for retirement, but he didn't want to put that pressure on Lynn to abandon her dreams, either.

Turning off the water, he grabbed a towel and began drying off as he left the bathroom. He was pulling on a pair of sweats when he heard his Skype notification ring. He grinned as he moved to his desk and sat down in front of his laptop. Hitting the enter key, he brought it out of hibernation, and he immediately opened up Skype. Lynn's face came into view, and he felt his heart clench when she smiled at him.

"Hello, my love," she said sweetly. "How was your day?"

Greg hesitated and quickly decided not to mention the phone message until he knew if it was good or bad. "It was just fine. Classes kept me busy..."

They continued to talk about their days, just like they did every night, and then Lynn changed topics abruptly.

"Greg, I have some very good news." She smiled enigmatically and waited.

"Really?" He paused, waiting for her to say something, but she stayed silent. "Well, are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess?"

"Actually, I want you to guess."

Greg rolled his eyes dramatically. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Fine," he huffed good-naturedly, "I'm going to guess it has something to do with our situation."

"Correct."

"Okay, you said it's good news, so it must be that you have decided to abandon your school, throw caution to the wind, and come back to Toronto tomorrow." He grinned widely at the unamused look on her face.

"Not quite." She gave him a disapproving stare, but Greg knew it was not serious because he could see the corners of her mouth twitching as she tried not to smile. He kept his own grin on his face, and it wasn't long before Lynn gave in and chuckled. "Actually," she continued, now smiling, "I wish that were my news, but what I have isn't far behind. I talked to May and Ramon last night and again today. Assuming everything works out on your end, she is going to become the principal of the school when I leave." She laughed when she saw the look of shock on Greg's face.

"Wow!" he gasped. "I have to say that I hadn't even considered that as an option." He looked at her quizzically. "But doesn't that mean that you need to find another teacher to take her place?"

"That's not a problem. She was already going to take time off when she has the baby, so I'll just ask her substitute to stay for the rest of the year."

"Wait, what do you mean the rest of the year? When exactly are you planning on handing over the reins, so to speak?"

"Well, May's baby is due in about two weeks, and I already told you that I want to stay here for a while after that. Our Christmas break starts in about two months, and it lasts until the middle of January. That would give me a couple of months with May and the baby. I would be willing to join you in the east after that if your plan falls in place by then."

January. That was only three months away. The thought that in three short months he could permanently be with the woman he loved staggered Greg. He slowly sat back in his chair and stared at the computer screen, his mouth agape.

"Greg, are you okay?" Concern laced Lynn's words as she leaned closer to her own screen. "I thought you'd be happy."

"Happy? Sweetheart, I am way beyond happy. I am..." he paused as he tried to think of the right word. "I am ecstatic, overjoyed, thrilled. This is just so unexpected. I was really predicting that it would be the end of the school year before there'd be even a possibility of being together." He sat up and reached out one hand to the computer. He gently placed his fingertips on the screen, and she matched his motion. His heart was beating wildly, and he couldn't control the feeling of frustration that was welling up inside of him. "God, Lynn," he whispered, "this is probably the best news I could have ever heard. I just wish I could be there with you right now. I want to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you."

He watched as Lynn lowered her head, and he felt like a heel for dampening her news with his melancholy. "My love," he said softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad, especially when you had such happy news."

"No, Greg," she said, lifting glistening eyes to him, "you didn't make me sad. That's my natural state when I'm away from you. It doesn't take much at all to make me cry these days. Everything seems to remind me that you are there and I am here." She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes. "But, I think we are on our way to forever ridding ourselves of these pesky thousands of miles between us."

Greg had to smile at her optimism. "Pesky, huh? Not exactly the adjective I would use, but you are right." He was tempted to tell her about the call from Ottawa, but he didn't want to put more of a pall on this conversation. It was bad enough that he had to spend the night not knowing what was going to happen; he didn't want her to go through that, too. He looked at the clock and groaned inwardly. "Lynn, it's time for me to go. I've got an early day tomorrow." He saw the disappointment on her face and hated himself for putting it there.

"I understand, Greg. I don't like it, but I understand. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"I'll look forward to it all day, my love, as always."

Lynn smiled slightly, but her eyes were still wet with tears that had not fallen. "I love you, Greg, with all that I am."

"And I love you, Lynn, with all that I am." He blew her a kiss, which she returned, and then they signed off.

Greg flicked the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. He walked confidently to his bed and climbed in, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table. Turning it on, he picked up the current book he was reading, _The Riddle of the Sands_ by Erskine Childers. After about ten minutes, he realized that he had read an entire chapter without remembering a single word. He sighed and put the book back on the table and turned out the light. He lay in the darkness, thinking about all the possibilities that were now before him, and it was quite a while before sleep claimed him.


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

After the worst night of sleep that he could remember, Greg dragged himself out of bed far too early. He took a quick shower, put on his uniform, and trudged to the cafeteria where he got himself a large coffee, a bagel with cream cheese, and the daily Toronto newspaper. He ensconced himself at a corner table and proceeded to eat breakfast while perusing the paper. There was no one else in the room at that hour, so there were no interruptions. When he finished, he looked at his watch. It was only seven o'clock, so there was still an hour before he could call Ottawa and find out the reason for the phone message. People were starting to trickle into the cafeteria, and he didn't want to talk to anyone right now, so he decided to get some work done in his office.

Sitting down behind his desk, he draped his uniform jacket over the back of his chair and pulled a stack of folders out of a cabinet behind him. They were the files of the current graduating class, of which Dean was a part. It was his job to go through the files to make sure that the cadets leaving the Ontario Police College had completed all of the requirements for entry into the last part of the Cadet-In-Training Program, which was another six weeks at the Toronto Police College. The portion of the program which Dean and his class was working through was a twelve-week course, and it was scheduled to end two weeks from Friday, so he had to make sure all of the cadets were eligible.

While he tried to focus on the files, his eyes kept drifting to the clock on his desk. He only got about half as many done as he would have normally, and at precisely eight o'clock, he had his phone in his hand, listening to it ring. After a few, short moments, a business-like voice came on the other end.

"Behavioural Sciences, this is Julia speaking. How may I direct your call?"

"Hello," Greg responded. "This is Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker of the Toronto Police Services. May I please speak to Sergeant Robert Cook?"

"Certainly, sir; one moment, please."

The woman put Greg on hold, and, as he listened to the Muzak playing in the background, he became more and more nervous as to how this call was going to play out. He didn't realize that he was holding his breath until he released it with a huff when a man's voice sounded in his ear.

"Sergeant Parker? This is Sergeant Cook. Thank you for calling back so quickly."

Collecting himself, Greg tried to keep his anticipation out of his voice as he answered, "My pleasure."

"Well," Sergeant Cook continued, "I'm sure you're wondering about the reason for the call. I'm happy to inform you that we would like you to come to Ottawa at your earliest convenience for an interview."

Greg gripped the edge of his desk to keep himself from jumping out of his chair at this news. "That is wonderful," he said, proud of the fact that his excitement was not evident in his voice. He thought quickly. "I am currently teaching classes during the week, but would a weekend trip work?"

"That would be just fine," Sergeant Cook responded. "We understand that most of our applicants already have jobs, so we try to work around any schedule. How soon would you be able to make it here?"

It was now Thursday, and Greg was intensely eager to get this process started. "Would this Saturday be too soon?"

"Not at all." If the Sergeant was surprised at such a request, his words and tone didn't show any indication of it. "Will you be driving or flying?"

"Driving," Greg responded.

"Will you be driving out Friday night or Saturday morning?"

Greg thought for a moment before answering. "I think Saturday morning would be the best. I have classes tomorrow, so that would make for a very long night."

"That will be fine. I'll set the appointment for the afternoon, then. How does two o'clock sound?"

Doing some quick calculations in his head, Greg figured out that if he left by nine o'clock Saturday morning, he would have plenty of time to get to Ottawa. "Two o'clock sounds great," he said. "Is there anything I need to bring?"

"If you can get ahold of your official police file before then, that would be good," Sergeant Cook replied, "but if not, we can request it later."

Greg jotted down all the pertinent information. "I'll do my best. Is there anything else?"

"No, I believe that's all for now, Sergeant. I look forward to meeting you. When you get to our building, just inform the security guard that you are here to meet with me, and you will be cleared. I'll make sure they know you are coming."

"Thank you, Sergeant. I will see you on Saturday, then. Goodbye."

"Goodbye."

The call was disconnected, and Greg placed his phone on the desk, a slow, satisfied smile spreading across his face. He looked at the clock and saw that the call had only taken fifteen minutes. He picked up his phone again and dialed a number he knew by heart.

"SRU."

"Winnie, hey, it's Greg."

"Hey, Boss! What's up? Is everything okay?" Winnie's voice was cheerful, so Greg knew that everything was calm at the barn at the moment.

"Everything is fantastic, Winnie. I need a favor from you."

"Of course, what is it?"

"I need you to get a copy of my official police file, the comprehensive one. Can you do it by tomorrow night?"

"Sure, all it would take is a phone call. May I ask what you need it for?"

"You can ask, but I won't tell you, at least, not yet." Winnie could hear the smile in Greg's voice, which caused her to smile, too.

"All right, then, keep your secrets," she joked. "I can have the file waiting for you here at the barn. Just come on in and pick it up."

"Thanks, Winnie, I really appreciate it. See you tomorrow."

"You're welcome, Boss. See you then."

That taken care of, Greg tried to turn his attention back to the files on his desk, but he had a hard time concentrating. He needed to tell someone about his good news, and the only people who knew of his possible career change were Lynn and Dean. He knew that Lynn was getting ready for her school day, and he wanted his conversation with her to be more than a perfunctory "guess what," so he picked up his desk phone and dialed Dean's room number.

After two rings, the phone was answered. "Hello? Cadet Robertson speaking."

"Cadet, this is Sergeant Parker. Is Cadet Parker there?"

"Yes, sir, he's right here," the young man sounded nervous; the Head Instructor didn't often call, even though it was his son's room.

"Thank you," Greg responded. It was only a few moments before he heard the phone being handed off to Dean.

"Sir?" Dean knew that, unless told otherwise, he was to treat Greg like he would any other instructor, which meant addressing him properly.

"Dean, I was wondering if you could meet me outside the gym in about fifteen minutes. I have some news."

When Greg called him by his first name, Dean knew that he was calling as his dad, not his superior, but, for his roommate's sake, he continued with the formalities. "Yes, sir, I can do that. Fifteen minutes."

"Great, thanks."

Hanging up the phone, Greg straightened the files on his desk and placed them back in the cabinet, securely locking them up. Grabbing his jacket, he slipped it on and buttoned it securely as he walked out the door. Fall was well on its way in Ontario, and as he walked across the campus toward the fitness building, he could feel a chill in the air that suggested to him that snow was not far in the future. Shrugging his shoulders deeper into his jacket, he completed his trek, acknowledging the cadets and the greetings of the other instructors he passed on the way. When he got to the fitness building, he could see Dean waiting outside, pacing slightly. When he saw Greg, he stood still.

Greg didn't speak, but simply nodded his head to indicate that he wanted Dean to walk with him. His son fell into step beside him, and they walked in silence until they were away from everyone. When he was sure no one could hear, Greg said, "Dean, what I am about to tell you goes no farther than the two of us, do you understand?"

"Yeah, Dad, I understand. What's going on?" Dean was worried; his dad had never asked to speak to him alone like this at school before.

When he realized how Dean was feeling, Greg smiled and reassured him. "Son, it's nothing bad, I promise. As a matter of fact, I have wonderful news. I got a call from Ottawa, and I'm going to have an interview this Saturday."

It took a moment for the news to sink in for Dean, but once it did, a bright smile lit up his face. "Really? Dad, that's fantastic! How'd you manage to get an interview so soon?"

"I asked, and they said it would work. I'll be driving out Saturday morning, and I'll stay overnight. I'll be back sometime on Sunday."

"Wow, Dad!" Dean couldn't wipe the smile off his face. "I'm so excited for you!"

Greg suddenly became serious. "Remember, no one can know. Not yet. I don't have the job yet, and I don't want anyone to even know I'm looking at a career change. If it doesn't pan out, I don't want to lose my position here."

Dean forced himself to look calm, even though inside he was anything but. "Of course, Dad, I understand completely."

Greg clapped Dean on the back and the two of them turned around and walked back to the fitness building. As they got closer to other people, their demeanor changed back to that of instructor and cadet. When they reached the building, Greg simply nodded at Dean and headed away from him toward the academic building where he soon was in front of a group of thirty cadets, telling them about the finer points of negotiation techniques.

The day went quickly, and even the evening didn't seem as long as usual since he spent it going through the files he hadn't gotten to that morning. He was still in his office when the Skype notification on his computer went off. He smiled brightly and clicked on the icon, immediately bringing up the image of the woman he loved.

"Hello, my love, it is wonderful to see you." He couldn't keep the grin from his face.

Lynn was also smiling, but Greg could see confusion coloring it. "It's good to see you, too, Greg." She paused slightly. "What's going on?"

"What do you mean? Can't I just be happy to see my girlfriend?" Greg knew he wasn't fooling anyone, but he was so excited that he couldn't help having a little fun.

"Uh, huh," Lynn said, blatant skepticism evident, "why don't I think that I am the only reason for your good mood?"

"I don't know, why don't you think so?"

"Because, as much as I love to see you, and know that you love to see me, you have never, ever acted this way before, so, spill it. What's going on?"

"All right," Greg sighed dramatically, "you've got me. I do have something to tell you." He paused before continuing, "I got a call from Ottawa last night, and I called them back this morning."

"Ottawa?" It took Lynn a moment, but then she smiled. "You mean Behavioural Sciences, don't you?"

"Yep," Greg said, barely able to contain his glee. "And I have an interview with them Saturday afternoon."

Lynn squealed and then covered her mouth with her hand. "This Saturday? But that's so soon. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I didn't know earlier," Greg answered. "I just talked to them this morning. They said I could come at my earliest convenience, and when I asked them if Saturday was too soon, they said no. Lynn," he paused, "this could be it. If I get this job, we can work on how to get you out there, too. We can finally be together."

"I know, Greg, I am so excited for you, for us."

Greg smiled, and their converstaion continued, it being more light-hearted and cheerful than any other they had had when not in each other's company. When they finally had to go, their parting was done with smiles on their faces, as they knew they were one step closer to a life together, forever.

"I love you, Lynn, with all that I am," Greg said, kissing his fingertips before placing his hand on the screen.

"And I love you, Greg, with all that I am." Lynn's eyes sparkled as she lovingly placed her hand over the image of his.

After disconnecting, Greg gathered up his things and headed to his room. He had a feeling that everything was falling into place, and for the first time in a long time, he was sure that true, lasting happiness was in his future.


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

Friday had blown by, Greg's classes seeming to take no time at all. When they were finished, he completed his regular Friday afternoon routine to close up his room and climbed into his car. During the hour-long drive to Toronto, he thought about whether or not to tell Eddie and the others about his weekend plans. He made a quick stop by the SRU to pick up his file, and then, as he pulled into the parking lot of O'Malley's, he told himself that he would wait until he knew the results of the interview. There was no reason for everyone to be anxious about it; it was enough that he, Dean, and Lynn were.

Walking into the restaurant, he saw that Sam and Spike were already seated at their table, two beers on the table in front of them. Greg caught the attention of Tom, the bartender, and simply nodded to him. Tom nodded back, and, by the time Greg made it to the table, there was a Diet Coke waiting for him. Greetings and handshakes were shared with the two SRU officers, as Greg slipped into his chair and propped his cane against his leg.

"So, Boss, Spike here was telling me that he has some important news to tell us all." Sam smiled conspiritorially. "I happen to know that Winnie is, at this very moment, having drinks with Jules and the girls at the Goose. My highly-tuned profiling skills tell me that something is up."

"Really, Spike? Is there something life-altering happening? Do tell." Greg took a sip of his drink and raised his eyebrows over the glass.

Spike leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Sorry, Boss, but you'll just have to wait until Ed and Wordy get here."

Sam and Greg tried to pry out the information from Spike as they waited, but it only made Spike dig in his heels even more, his mouth firmly closed in a tight, thin line. By the time Eddie and Wordy walked through the door, amused frustration was evident all around the table.

"Ed! Wordy! I have never been so glad to see you in all my life!" Sam practically jumped from his seat in his excitement.

"Wow, Sam, it's not like you didn't see me a couple of hours ago," Ed said cautiously, his eyes projecting confusion and not a little worry. "I realize you haven't seen Wordy in a week, but this is a little overboard, even for you."

Greg smiled as he heard the laughter hidden behind Ed's words. He knew that Eddie was just teasing Sam, but he decided to step in anyway. "Eddie, you have just saved Sam and I from another round of 'Drag the Information out of Spike.' He's got news, but he wouldn't say a word until you two got here."

"Oh, really?" Wordy drawled as he lifted two fingers in Tom's direction. The five friends had been coming the O'Malley's for so long that they didn't have to actually order their drinks anymore. Tom knew exactly what they wanted and quickly brought over two more beers. Placing them on the table in front of Ed and Wordy, Tom took everyone's dinner orders and disappeared. Wordy then turned to Spike and stared him in the eye. "So, Constable Scarlatti, what's the big secret?"

Greg was surprised to see Spike turn beet red and pick up his beer to take a long swig before answering. He swallowed and coughed lightly. "Well, Winnie and I have the same news. She's telling the girls right now." He paused and took a deep breath. "I asked her to marry me, and she said yes."

The table erupted in sound, causing the other patrons in the restaurant to turn and see what the commotion was about. What they saw was a group of friends cheering and patting one of their members on the back, giving him bear hugs, and shaking his hand furiously. Spike was practically buried in the well-wishes of his friends, but the humongous grin on his face told everyone in the place that he was enjoying them immensely. After a few moments, the men resumed their seats, each one of them sporting a grin of his own.

"A toast," Greg said, raising his glass, causing the other men to raise their bottles. "To Constable Michaelangelo Scarlatti and Constable Edwina Camden. May their days together be joyous and lifelong."

"Hear, hear!" The men clinked their drinks together before taking a long draft.

From there, the conversation naturally became questions about dates, times, how Spike had proposed, and how Winnie had reacted when he proposed. The food came, and the friends continued plying Spike with questions as they ate, wanting all the steamy details.

Greg soaked in the goodwill surrounding the table, and he was feeling really good until, suddenly, he thought about the fact that, if his interview went well the next day, he would be leaving these men to move 450 kilometers away. He had known Sam and Spike for half a dozen years, and they were a huge part of his life. Eddie and Wordy, on the other hand, had been his bedrock for over a decade, especially Eddie. Greg wondered how he was going to handle things knowing he wouldn't see these men every week, especially during the time he was in Ottawa alone, before Lynn could join him. He didn't realize that his face was mirroring the angst in his mind until he felt Sam's hand on his shoulder.

"Boss? Are you all right?"

"What?" Greg's eyes snapped into focus, and he saw his friends looking at him concernedly. "Yeah, I'm fine." He sighed and took a drink of his Coke, and then he smiled brightly. "Sorry to rain on your parade, Spike. I hope you know how truly happy I am for you and Winnie."

"I do, Boss," Spike said quietly, "and thanks, but something is up with you. What is it?"

Greg shook his head. "It's nothing I can talk about right now. Hopefully by Sunday I'll be able to tell you guys something."

"Is it you and Lynn?" Eddie said cautiously. "Greg, are you two having problems?"

"God, no! That's not it at all. We are doing perfectly...well, as perfectly as we can be considering she's not here with me."

Eddie sighed in relief. "That's good. I was afraid that..."

"That what, Eddie?" Greg thought he knew what Ed was thinking, but he needed to hear him say it.

Taking a quick glance around the table to see the same worry that he was feeling in the other men's eyes, Ed screwed up his courage and looked steadily at Greg. "I was afraid that, if you and Lynn had broken up, you'd end up drinking yourself to death. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Ed's voice had risen slightly, and he forced himself to lower it. "We're worried about you, Greg. We know how hard it is on you to have her leave you like this, and I know that the booze is always there tempting you."

"Is that how you all feel?" When the other men nodded, Greg chuckled a little, but then he became serious when he saw Ed's eyebrows draw together and anger darken his eyes. "I'm sorry, Eddie...all of you. I don't mean to belittle your concerns, but I'm fine, really. Yes, it sucks every time Lynn leaves, and it sucks even more every night when I have to say goodbye over the phone or the computer. I die a little inside every time I want to touch her or kiss her and know I can't. But, please believe me when I say that none of that has ever made we want to drink. Not once. I know that drinking would ruin what I have with her as quickly as if I cheated on her. I will not do anything to jeopardize what we have together." He took a sip of his soda and placed the glass back on the table, cupping it between his hands. He looked at his friends and smiled when he saw that they only looked slightly less worried than before. "Look, guys, I'll tell you one thing, all right? I am going out of town tomorrow, and when I come back on Sunday, I promise to tell you everything, okay? Good or bad, you will all know exactly what is going on. Deal?"

The men around the table all nodded their heads slowly, as if still unconvinced. Spike was the first to brush off the solemnity that had descended on their get-together as he stuck out his hand across the table. "Deal, Boss!" With a grin, Greg took his hand and gave it a hearty shake.

The simple gesture seemed to chase away the storm clouds, and the talk was once again all about Spike and Winnie. Another hour or so passed until Greg slowly stood up.

"Well, guys, I have an early day tomorrow, so I'm going to call it a night." He took his cane and turned to Ed. "I'll call you when I get back on Sunday, okay?"

"Okay, Greg, you'd better. Remember that I know where you live," Eddie's bantering words only slightly hid the concern Greg knew was still there. "I'm off tomorrow and Monday, so call the moment you get back, no matter the time, got me?"

"Yes, sir," Greg laughed. He clapped Ed on the back before giving a wave to the others. He walked outside and stopped, breathing deeply of the autumn night air. Even in the middle of the city, he could smell the scents of fall - the crispness in the wind and the fallen leaves, along with cinnamon and spices from a bakery a few doors down from O'Malleys.

As he drove out of the parking garage, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and saw that it was Lynn. Curious as to why she was calling so early - it was only about six o'clock in Colorado - he pushed the speaker button and set the phone on the console.

"Hello, my love," he said happily. still on a high from Spike's good news, the beautiful night, and the excitement of his pending interview.

"Hello, Greg." Lynn's voice was not nearly as cheerful as his own, and he instantly sobered.

"Lynn? What's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing, really. It's just been a really long, bad day."

Greg heard the weariness, and, as much as she was trying to hide it, he could tell she was attempting to hold in tears. He decided that this conversation deserved his undivided attention, and he quickly pulled onto a side street and parked his car. Turning off the engine, he said, "Baby, what happened?"

He listened helplessly as Lynn took a hitching breath and began to softly cry. He clenched his hands together to keep himself from punching the steering wheel. He felt so impotent not being able to be with her at a time like this. She needed him to hold her and whisper comforting words in her ear, not just listen to her over the phone from 2,500 kilometers away.

"Lynn, sweetheart, talk to me, please. Tell me what happened." He kept his voice calm like he used to with volatile subjects, but what he wanted to do was scream out his frustration.

A few more moments went by before Lynn took a deep breath and began to speak, her words punctuated with short gasps as she tried to control her emotions. "Okay, one of my students got into trouble today - a lot of trouble. We have been having some vandalism in the boy's bathroom for about a week, stuff like toilet paper holders ripped off the wall, graffiti, and toilets being deliberately clogged. Obviously, we can't have cameras in there, but none of the boys were willing to tell us who was doing it. Finally, one of them came to me and told me who it was. I immediately called an all-school assembly where I told the students that I had been told who the vandal was, but that I needed more boys to corroborate the information. I told them that if they knew who it was, I needed to know immediately. Within ten minutes of the students going back to class, I had five more boys in my office telling me that it was the same boy the first student named. That was enough for me, so I pulled him out of class and had my secretary call his parents. They said they'd come in immediately. I talked to the boy, and he began to cry as he confessed to being the culprit.

"That's when the problems started. I have had plenty of experience with students and parents, both positive and negative, and have been able to handle everything that has come my way. I had met these parents before - I meet all of the parents before their children are admitted to my school - but, since this boy had not been in trouble before, I didn't know them very well." With a short, derisive laugh, she continued. "I know them a lot better now, though I wish I didn't."

When she paused to take another deep breath, Greg closed his eyes against the pain in her voice, squeezing his hands together even tighter than before while he schooled his voice into serenity. "What did they do?" He had never heard Lynn talk about any parent who had affected her like this, and it bothered him immensely.

Another short laugh came over the line. "Well, first, when they saw their son crying, they flat-out accused me of abusing him. They began screaming at me, and the whole time, the boy just shrank deeper and deeper into his seat. Now, to protect myself and my students, every time I have a meeting in my office, I have cameras rolling. I told the parents that not only did I not abuse their son, and that I had video proof of it, everything they were doing was also being recorded. They looked shocked, and immediately settled down into their seats. I thought that was going to be it. I couldn't have been more wrong.

"I told them that their son admitted everything, and that he was being instantly suspended from the Academy while possible expulsion procedures were started. Along with that, they were going to have to pay for the damage done to the school. That's when the father jumped out of his seat and backhanded his son across the face while yelling at him about 'how dare you do this to us' and crap like that. As soon as I saw that, I called my secretary on the intercom and told her to dial 911. At that point, the father turned his wrath on me while his wife continued smacking the boy."

Greg's heart stopped in his chest. "Oh, my God, Lynn, are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Greg, he didn't lay a hand on me. He was going to, but I stood up and just stared at him. I think it startled the man to have a woman stand up to him like that. I told the boy to come over to me, and he quickly scrambled around my desk and cowered behind me. The father screamed at me to give him his son, but I told him that the police were coming, and he and his wife were going to be arrested for child abuse and who knew what else. The parents apparently forgot about the cameras because they let loose a flood of profanity and threats, including finding me outside of the school and 'teaching me a lesson about coming between a man and his son.' I stood my ground and protected the boy, every second afraid that I was going to get a fist to the face. The man kept his threats verbal, however, and it was only a few minutes before five policemen burst through my office door and took both of them down. As they were dragged away, one of the officers stayed behind to watch the video, take my statement, and deal with the boy. I don't know how I managed to keep it together, but I did. Child Services came and took the boy about half an hour ago, and the police just left about ten minutes ago. I just had to hear your voice, so I called you."

"I am so glad that you did, my love. God, I wish I was there with you right now. I feel so helpless being so far away from you." He heard Lynn take another deep breath, and hot tears of frustration pooled in his eyes as he listened to her slowly release it, but he refused to let them fall. "Baby," he continued, "tell me what I can do."

"Just talk to me, my love, let me know you're here for me."

_But I'm not, that's the problem_, Greg thought viciously. Out loud, he said, "You know I'm always here for you, Lynn. I love you, and I'll always be here when you need me."

"I love you, too, Greg, more than you will ever know." Another sob escaped Lynn's throat, and the sound had Greg squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth as he fought down the groan that was rising in his chest. "I just wish you could hold me right now."

He lost his battle with himself, and the groan was low and deep as he laid his head on the steering wheel. "Oh, Lynn, I wish that more than anything. It is absolute torture to listen to you and not be able to comfort you the way I want to."

Silence filled his car as they both ceased talking, and Greg just listened to Lynn breathing on the other line. After what seemed like forever, she spoke softly, "Greg, I want you to know that just hearing your voice comforts me immensely. As much as I want to be with you, this will do for now. Just knowing that you love me means a lot. Now, I know you need to get some sleep before your drive to Ottawa tomorrow, so I'll let you do that. Call me as soon as you know something, all right?"

Greg took a deep breath. "Of course, my love, I promise." He wanted to say something else, anything else to keep her on the phone, but he knew she was right. He needed rest in order to safely make the trip, so he simply said, eyes closing against the pain in his heart, "I love you, Lynn, with all that I am, and more. You know that, right?"

"I do know that, Greg, and that is all that is making our separation bearable right now. I love you, too, with all that I am. Have a safe trip tomorrow, and I'll talk to you soon."

Keeping with their tradition, neither one of them said goodbye, but simply disconnected the call. Greg sat quietly for a short moment, breathing deeply, trying to control a sudden urge to pace. He couldn't, so he got out of the car and walked back and forth, attempting to calm himself. After numerous passes, he climbed back in behind the wheel, still seething. He knew that he would never be able to sleep in this condition, so he started his car and drove quickly to the SRU. Even though he was officially retired, he was still a fairly regular fixture around the barn, and he came every once in a while to work out with the officers. He grabbed his gym bag out of his trunk and crossed the parking lot. Walking in, he saw that Sidney was the dispatcher for the night.

"Hey, Sergeant Parker, what are you doing here?" Sid's voice was cheerful until he saw the anger flashing in Greg's eyes. "Whoa, are you okay?"

"I'll be just fine, Sidney, if I can use the workout room for a while." Greg's words were clipped, and he really didn't want to talk to anyone right then.

"Sure thing, Sergeant. Team Four is out on patrol right now, so there's no one here to bother you."

"Thanks, Sidney." Greg stomped off to the locker room, where he quickly changed into a T-shirt and sweats. He wrapped his knuckles and went to the heavy bag. His footwork wasn't nearly as light as it used to be before his injury, but he didn't care about that now. He simply felt like hitting something. Balling up his fists, he began to pummel the bag as if by doing so he could rid himself of the pain in his heart. Each time his hand made contact with the vinyl, he pretended that it was that father's face he was pounding. It infuriated him to think that a man would dare hurt a child or threaten a woman, especially when that woman was the one he loved.

He didn't know how long he had been thrashing the bag, but, as his body tired, his mind cleared. After a few more hits, he wrapped his arms around the bag and laid his head against the rough vinyl, breathing heavily. He let the tears that had been behind his eyes all night fall, mingling with the sweat streaming down his face. He stood there for a long time, letting his breathing return to normal, and then he pushed himself off the bag. Swinging his fist one last time, he felt better as it crushed into the bag. He grabbed his bag and decided that he would shower at home. Pulling the tape from his hands as he walked back to Sidney, he dropped it in the trashcan next to the desk.

Sidney looked at him with concern. "Everything okay, Sergeant?"

"No, it's not okay, Sidney, but there's nothing I can do to fix anything that's wrong, so, there it is. Life just sucks, right now."

"I can tell. You really took out some anger on that bag. I'd hate to be the guy you were thinking about."

Greg let out a short laugh. "Yeah, Sidney, me too. Thanks for letting me work it out."

"No problem, Sarge, any time."

Greg slapped his hand on the top of the desk and waved as he walked out the door. A brisk wind met him as he exited the SRU, and his sweat-soaked shirt instantly turned icy. He walked swiftly to his car and slammed the door to block out the cold. He rested his head against the seat for a moment before breathing deeply and starting the engine. As he drove home, an idea came to him. There actually was something he could do to fix this situation, but he would have to work fast to make it happen.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

The morning came early for Greg. By six o'clock, he was already on the phone. He had several calls to make before he could leave Toronto. The first two took the longest but were also the most important. The others were simply housekeeping calls; he needed to make sure everything was taken care of before he left. The last one was to Lynn.

"Greg?" The phone had only rung once, so Greg knew that she had been awake, but she still sounded a little groggy. He looked at the clock and realized that it was only five fifteen in Colorado.

"Hello, my love. Did I wake you?" He couldn't keep the cheerfulness out of his voice.

"No, not exactly. I've only been up about five minutes, though, so I'm not completely awake yet." She paused. "Why are you calling so early?"

"Well," Greg said, "I wanted to see if you were going to be busy this evening. I have a surprise for you, and I wanted to make sure I wouldn't be interrupting anything."

"No, nothing is planned," Lynn responded with a big yawn. "What time?"

"It will be about ten o'clock."

"That late? Definitely nothing planned, then. I'm usually home for good by eight at the latest."

"Actually, you can't be at home for this surprise. I did a little research, and I saw that there is a cyber cafe about a mile from your home on North Avenue near the University. Is Grand Junction a safe enough city for you to be there at ten o'clock at night?"

"A Saturday night near the college? Perfectly safe. There will be campus and city police all over the place," Lynn responded with a laugh.

"Wonderful!" Greg exclaimed. "Then I need you to be at the cafe precisely at ten. Skype me when you get there. Then I'll let you in on the surprise."

"Greg, what are you doing? Are you really going to make me wait all day without even a little hint?"

Greg could tell Lynn was intensely curious, and he decided to help he out a tiny bit. "All right," he sighed, "I can tell you one thing."

"Yes?" A slight amount of irritation was evident in Lynn's voice when Greg stopped.

"Let's just say that I am pretty sure it will be one of the biggest surprises of your life. Now," he continued when it sounded like she was going to say something, "I need to get moving if I'm going to make it to Ottawa on time. I'll call you after my interview, okay?"

He chuckled when he heard Lynn let out a frustrated huff. "That's all? That's my hint?"

"Yep, that's it. Just a pesky…" he looked at his watch. "...sixteen and a half hours, and all will be revealed."

"Pesky, huh? Not exactly the adjective I would use," Lynn said, repeated Greg's words from a few days earlier.

Greg laughed. "I'm sorry, darling, I wish I could tell you more, but any more would spoil it, and I can't do that."

"I understand, Greg, I really do, but I just want you to know that you have now made my day unbearable. I will repay you for that, you know."

Another laugh escaped him as he replied, "I'm counting on it, my dear. Until tonight, I leave you with my love, now and forever."

"I love you, too, Greg, with all that I am."

"With all that I am," he agreed before disconnecting the call.

He had gotten up earlier than he had originally planned because he knew he needed an hour or so before the interview to take care of something once he got to Ottawa. Therefore, it was only a little before eight o'clock when he put his suitcase in the trunk of his car and slipped behind the wheel, placing the cane on the passenger seat. Starting the engine, he sat silently for a moment, reveling in the sound and feel of the 550 horses under the hood. He closed his eyes and thought about what the day was about to bring, and the thought brought a smile to his face. Opening his eyes, he put an address into his GPS, put the car into gear, and pulled away from his apartment building.

The drive to Ottawa was uneventful, and it would have been quite boring if his head hadn't been full of the interview and his plans afterwards. As it was, Greg drove almost automatically, stopping only once. During that stop, he gassed up his car and picked up lunch, which he ate in the car after leaving the gas station. When he saw the street signs announcing that he was nearing Ottawa, he glanced at the clock and saw that it was not quite one o'clock. His GPS said that he was only about ten minutes away from his first destination.

Perfect, he thought as followed the directions to a small shop on Vanier Parkway. Parking in front of the shop, he went inside, the owner turning toward the door and smiling brightly when he heard the bell above it jingle.

"Good afternoon, sir, how may I help you?" The man was between sixty and seventy years old, with thinning white hair and round spectacles covering bright blue eyes.

"Actually," Greg said with a returning smile, "I'd just like to look around for a moment, if that's all right."

"Of course, sir, take your time. Just let me know if you would like to see something in particular."

Greg browsed the shop, looking closely at the merchandise, until he saw what he was looking for. "Excuse me, sir, may I see that one, please?"

"Yes, sir," the old man said, sliding a box out of the case Greg was standing in front of.

Greg took the box and inspected the contents. He smiled as he thought of Lynn's face when she saw it. "It's perfect," he said out loud.

"And what size does your lady wear?" the owner asked.

"A six," Greg replied. "Do you have that size in stock?"

"Yes, sir. As a matter of fact, this one right here is a six. Would you like to purchase it today?"

"Absolutely," Greg said, pulling his wallet out of his jacket pocket. He walked with the man to the cash register and took out his credit card. Handing it to the owner, he waited until the transaction was completed and then signed the slip. Smiling, the old man placed the box in a bag and handed it to Greg along with his card. Greg held out his hand to the man, who shook it, neither man losing the smiles gracing their faces.

Back at his car, Greg saw that he still had about twenty minutes before his interview, which was good, since the RCMP Headquarters was only about a mile down the road from where he now was. He drove quickly to the building and parked in the visitors' lot. Opening the trunk, he retrieved his comprehensive file from his suitcase and walked up to the main door. He was slightly self-conscious of his cane and his limp, but he figured that the people interviewing him had done their homework on him and knew all about his injury. Walking into the building, he went straight to the security desk.

"Hello," he said to the guard behind the desk, "my name is Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker from Toronto. I have an appointment with Sergeant Robert Cook at two o'clock."

The guard said nothing while he looked through a book on the desk, and then, looking up, he handed Greg a visitor's pass and pointed at the elevators to Greg's left. "Go up the elevator to the fifth floor; then turn right out of the elevator, and Sergeant Cook's office will be on your right. He is expecting you."

"Thank you," Greg responded, and he went to follow the directions he had been given.

There was no one else on the elevator with him, so on the short ride to the fifth floor, Greg closed his eyes and practiced his sniper breathing as he tried to quell the nervousness that had suddenly filled him. The last thing he wanted was to shake the hand of this man with sweaty palms. He succeeded, and when the bell dinged, he opened his eyes and strode confidently to Sergeant Cook's door. Knocking, he waited until he heard the person inside tell him to come in, and then he turned the handle and went in.

Robert Cook was sitting behind the desk in the small office, but when he saw Greg, he smiled and immediately stood up and put out his right hand. Greg shook it with conviction.

"Sergeant Parker, it is good to see you. How was the drive?"

"Uneventful," Greg replied with a small smile, "and please, call me Greg."

"That's good," Sergeant Cook said. "You can call me Bob. We don't stand on formalities much here, except for the Director and Deputy Director, of course." He released his hand from Greg's and held it out. "I assume that's your police file?"

"Yes," Greg said, handing him the manila envelope. "I was able to get my comprehensive." He smiled brighter. "It helps to be friends with people in strategic places."

"Yes, it does," Bob agreed. He tucked the file under his right arm and walked around his desk. Motioning for Greg to precede him, he walked out the door and locked it behind him. "Now, let's meet the others."

The nervousness that Greg had conquered in the elevator threatened to rise up again, but he forced it down and followed Bob down the corridor. They walked a short distance down the hall to a wall of windows with the words "Criminal Investigative Analysis" stenciled on them. Through the windows, Greg could see a bank of desks with a squad of analysts behind them, busily working. Other employees were moving around, completing various tasks. Bob led Greg through the glass door in the middle of the windows, and they walked down the center of the room to a door at the back. Knocking once, Bob simply opened the door and held it as Greg entered the room. Shutting it behind him, he spoke to the four men sitting at the table in the center of the room.

"Gentlemen, this is Staff Sergeant Gregory Parker from the Toronto Police Services. Sergeant, may I introduce you to Sergeant Trevor Sterling, Sergeant Kevin Veach, Inspector Timothy Spangler, and Deputy Director William Baldridge."

Greg shook the hand of each of the men as Sergeant Cook named them, and, when finished, he took the lone chair across from them, while Bob walked around the table and sat in the empty chair at the end of the row of interviewers. He handed the Deputy Director Greg's file, and the man glanced through it quickly before setting it in front of him. He placed both of his hands on top of the envelope, lacing his fingers together, before eyeing Greg critically.

"So, Sergeant Parker," he began slowly, "what makes you think you have what it takes to be a Criminal Investigative Analyst?"

Anyone else who was not as schooled in human behavior as Greg probably would have run crying from the room at the ice dripping from the Deputy Director's words, but Greg inwardly smiled. He knew what the man was trying to do; he was trying to see if Greg was the type of man to be discouraged easily, or one who took offense easily. Since Greg was neither of those, he simply sat quietly for a moment formulating his answer.

"As you are probably already aware, I have been with the Toronto Police Services for over twenty years. I started out as a Constable on the streets, spending six years there. After that, I had five years in Homicide at the rank of Detective. When I found out that there was an opening in the Toronto Strategic Response Unit, I immediately applied. I was chosen out of hundreds of applicants, and the next ten years were spent working my way through their ranks. I retired from the SRU last February after being injured in the line of duty. The last year and a half, I have been the Head Instructor at the Ontario Police College, teaching classes in advanced negotiations and tactics to both cadets and active officers. While with the SRU, I was Team Sergeant and lead negotiator for Team One, the best team in the city. During that time, I had to profile subjects extensively, using that information to help dissolve volatile situations. Of course, it didn't always turn out the way we wanted it to, but the majority of the time, my team was able to resolve those situations in such a way that was a benefit to all involved. I know that this experience has enabled me to have the skills necessary to become a crime analyst. I have dealt with kidnappings, hostage situations, homicidal and suicidal subjects, and various other situations where analysis of the crime and the subjects was essential to a positive outcome."

The five men in front of him sat silently throughout this monologue, but Greg could see admiration in their eyes as he finished. The Deputy Director even nodded his head slightly before turning to the other interviewers. "Questions, gentlemen?"

The interview took another hour, and it was 3:10 when Greg shook Robert Cook's hand for the last time and walked back to the elevator. After the doors closed, and the car was on its way down, Greg allowed himself to take a deep breath and lean against the back of the elevator. He let out the breath slowly and let a smile cross his face. From his point of view, the interview had been a complete success. He felt that he had answered all the questions completely but succinctly, and by the end of the interview, the atmosphere in the room was one of camaraderie and mutual respect.

Still smiling, he stepped off the elevator at the ground floor, gave the guard back the visitor's pass, and walked to his car. Getting in, he felt his heart soar as he thought about the surprise he had for Lynn. He started the car so that the heater would counteract the chill in the air, and he pulled out his cellphone. Dialing, he waited for Lynn to answer. When it went to her voicemail, he was a little disappointed, but, at the same time, he was glad he didn't have to try and ignore her inevitable questions about what was happening at ten o'clock Colorado time. When the message was through, and the beep sounded, Greg left a short message.

"Hello, my love. I just wanted to let you know that I just finished my interview, and, I think it went great. They said they will contact me within a week or two with their decision. Of course, I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything about it. Now, this is also a reminder - ten o'clock at the cyber cafe. You have to Skype me from there. Nowhere else will work. It is essential that you are in that precise spot at ten o'clock exactly. Your surprise will make itself known then. I love you, my darling, with all that I am. I will see you at ten." Putting away his phone, he shifted the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot to put his plan into action.


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

Lynn's day had been excruciating. Not only did she have nothing planned, which made it a boring day in and of itself, Greg had dropped that bomb on her so early that morning. She had spent the last sixteen hours cleaning house, watching television, shopping for groceries, and for the most part, watching the clock. She had even taken a nap in the middle of the day out of sheer boredom. Greg had called while she was asleep, right around two o'clock, and she tried to call him back, but this time it was his phone that went to voicemail. She left him a message, but he hadn't called her back yet. It was now nine forty-five, and she had just pulled her car into a parking spot at the Prospero Internet Cafe. Taking a deep breath, not knowing if the butterflies in her stomach were uneasiness or anticipation, she walked inside. She looked around, and, since the cafe was across the street from Colorado Mesa University, it was fairly crowded. She saw a free stool and computer at a counter against the wall opposite the door, and she walked quickly to it. She removed her coat and draped it over the back of the stool and then went to the coffee counter, where she ordered a large chai latte. Returning to her seat, she sat down, opened the screen of the laptop, and logged on. Looking at the clock, she saw that she still had ten minutes to wait. She decided to watch the other people in the cafe, so she turned around in the stool and sipped her drink.

There were the expected college students, either typing away on laptops or pressing their tablets, smart phones, and iPads. She smiled slightly, thinking of her children who were still in college. Her eyes became unfocused as she thought about James, William, and Rose. James was in graduate school in Denver, William was at the Colorado School of Mines, and Rose was here at Mesa. Lynn was so immensely proud of all her children, and her thoughts drifted to her oldest daughter. May was very uncomfortable at this point in her pregnancy, but Lynn knew that once that baby came, none of the discomfort would matter at all. The baby was due in another week, and Lynn couldn't wait.

Lynn pulled herself back to the present, took one last look at the other clientele, and then turned back to her computer. The clock showed 9:58, so Lynn opened up Skype. She sat impatiently for ten o'clock to roll around, and, as soon as it did, she Skyped Greg. Her face lit up in a smile as soon as his image came on the screen.

"Hello, my darling, how was your day?" Before he could answer, she continued, "How was mine, you ask? Well, let me tell you. I was bored stiff! This was incredibly cruel of you, Greg. How could you make me wait so long without any idea what was going on?" Her smile had slipped slightly. She was happy to see him, of course, but she was truly miffed at him at the same time.

Greg looked like he couldn't have cared less. He had a large smile on his face, and he laughed. "I'm sorry, love, I know it was cruel. But, I promise, the surprise will be worth it. Do you want to know what it is?"

"No, please, Greg, make me wait some more," Lynn countered with an eye roll. She snapped her eyes back to his image. "Of course I want to know!" She spoke sharper than she had intended.

Greg only chuckled as he said, "Then go outside, but make sure you log off your computer first."

"What?" Lynn frowned.

Speaking slowly, enunciating each word, Greg repeated, "Go...outside."

Looking at Greg skeptically, Lynn said, "All right, if you say so."

She logged off of the laptop, swiveled her stool, and put on her coat before walking out the door. She instantly froze when she saw the man standing next to a red car parked at the curb. He was about five feet, ten inches tall, with a balding head, and eyes the color of melted dark chocolate. Lynn's hands flew to her mouth, and a sob escaped her throat as tears sprang to her eyes.

Greg smiled tenderly and held out his arms to her. That simple gesture caused Lynn to rush to him. She crashed into him and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest, the tears and the sobs coming uncontrolled now. Greg encircled her with his arms and laid his cheek on her curls. He said nothing, but only closed his eyes and held her tightly, gently stroking her back and head while he leaned back against the car.

After a long while, Lynn's sobs subsided, and she leaned back just far enough to look into Greg's eyes. "What...what are you doing here?"

"Surprise," Greg said softly. He raised one hand and brushed the tears from her face, and then he pushed some hair out of her eyes before letting his fingers drift down her temple to cup her chin in his palm. He lowered his head, gently brushing his lips over hers. Lynn moved her hands slightly and pulled him roughly to her, increasing the contact between their lips a hundredfold. Greg groaned and lifted her to her toes while invading her mouth with his tongue. She gladly admitted him, tangling her tongue with his, Their kiss lasted for what seemed a lifetime, but eventually, they slowly parted, and Greg set Lynn back down on her feet. Keeping his hands on her arms, he pushed her back so that he could look at her. "I'm sorry, my love, I didn't want to be so cruel to you today, but I couldn't tell you anything without spoiling everything. You have to admit, though, it was a great surprise!"

Lynn didn't trust her voice, and she could only nod, the tears threatening to fall once again. She traced Greg's face with her fingers as if she could not believe that he was real. "How…" she stopped and cleared her throat. "How did you make this happen? Yesterday, you told me you were staying in Ottawa tonight and driving back to Toronto tomorrow."

"Well, I would love to tell you, my dear, but I don't think this is the place for it." He chuckled softly and looked around them. There were quite a few people walking around them on the sidewalk, all of them giving them some sort of look. The looks ranged from humored to disgusted to understanding.

Lynn followed his look and nodded. "I think you're right." She looked back at him and smirked. "Well, this is your grand surprise, so what do you have planned next?"

"Dinner," Greg said decisively. "I haven't had a real meal since noon, my time. The crap they have on the plane doesn't count. Is there somewhere around here we can go this late?"

"Are you kidding? College town, remember? As long as you don't mind pizza, there's a great place right over there," and Lynn pointed down the block and across the street.

"Pizza sounds great!" Greg said enthusiastically, and he grabbed Lynn's hand before heading to the restaurant.

They chose a small table by the window, and they were silent for a few moments after the waitress took their drink orders and gave them menus.

"What sounds good to you?" Lynn asked, her eyes glued to the menu.

"I think I'll have a calzone," Greg responded. "What do you want?"

"Well, unlike you, I actually ate dinner, so I think I'll just have a salad."

Greg waved the waitress back over and told her what they wanted. When she left, taking the menus with her, he turned back to Lynn and took her hands in his. Taking a deep breath, he said resignedly, "Okay, hit me with it. Ask your questions."

"Question, singular. How?"

"Ah, short question, very long answer. It came to me last night after you told me what happened. I knew that you needed me, and, to tell the truth, I needed to be with you, too. So, I made it happen. That was after I pounded a heavy bag at the SRU for over an hour, that is. Anyway, I decided that the only solution was to come here and be with you, so early this morning, I called the college and told them that I was going out of town for the weekend, and that I would be back on Tuesday." He smiled at the surprised look on Lynn's face. "Yes, Tuesday. I suppose I should have asked first, but I assumed it would be all right with you if I stayed a couple of days."

"Of course it's okay, Greg, but I still don't understand how you did all of this."

"So, let me finish," he said good-naturedly. "After I called the college, I called the airlines. There was a four thirty flight out, so I immediately booked it and a rental car. I've been on the plane for the last six and a half hours, minus a thirty-minute layover in Chicago. Anyway, then I called Dean and asked him if he and Clark could drive to Ottawa to pick up my car and bring it back. He said that should work out just fine. Then I called Eddie and asked him to keep an eye on the apartment for me, and I also told him what was happening so that he knew I wouldn't be available for a while. Then I called you. I drove to Ottawa just after I hung up, went to the interview, which went great, by the way, and from there, I went directly to the airport. I just landed at the Grand Junction airport about an hour ago."

"Wow," Lynn said breathlessly, "you did all that because of last night? Greg, I would have been just fine. You didn't need to do all this."

"I know I didn't need to, but I could, and so I did." Greg shrugged. "Please don't tell me you're not happy to see me."

"No, of course not," Lynn said hastily, squeezing Greg's hands tightly. "I am thrilled to see you, you know that. I'm just really, really surprised."

"I know, my love, and I am thrilled to be here. I hope that me staying through Monday won't be a hardship for you. I realize that you'll have to work, of course, but I'll find something to do during that time."

"Well, maybe I'll just take the day off, too. It is my school, after all." Lynn smiled when Greg's eyes lit up at her suggestion. She released his hands and sat back in her seat as the waitress brought their food. "After I show it off to you first, of course," she finished.

"I would love to see it, darling, but after food and sleep. Lots of both." He grabbed his calzone and sank his teeth into it. "Wow!" he exclaimed after the first bite. "You were right; this is great!"

The conversation lagged as Greg satisfied his hunger, and Lynn took the time to just watch him. She still couldn't believe he was here, and she couldn't take her eyes off of him. Her initial shock had worn off, and now, she was just overwhelmed with love for the man sitting across the table from her.

After dinner, they walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, and Greg walked Lynn to her car, which was parked two spaces away from his. He helped her behind the wheel and then went back to his rental. He climbed in, and then Lynn pulled out of her spot. Greg followed her the short distance to her house, surprised at the nervousness that was building at the thought of actually being in her home. He didn't know why he was apprehensive, but he was now the one on foreign soil, and he was a little worried about it. He figured they would probably be seeing her family the next day, and he decided that was the reason for his feelings. He hadn't seen or talked to any of them since the day of the ceremony, and, despite Lynn's reassurances that they were okay with the situation, Greg wouldn't quite believe it until he saw it for himself.

The drive only took about five minutes, and Greg pulled his car into Lynn's driveway behind hers. As he got out of the car, he took in his surroundings with the efficiency of the policeman that he was. Lynn's house was larger than he had expected, considering she lived alone, but he supposed that her children probably came over occasionally, so maybe she still needed the room. The house was a two story blue Victorian with white trim and a wrap-around front porch. There was a detached garage, but Lynn and Greg had both parked in the driveway. The yard was well taken care of, and, even though it was fall, there were very few leaves scattered on the brown grass. Greg looked up and down the street and saw more of the same type of house. It looked to be an old neighborhood.

Greg pulled his suitcase from the trunk of the car and followed Lynn up the steps of the porch. The light above the door must have had a motion sensor because it turned on as soon as her foot hit the top step. He smiled when he saw two antique rocking chairs flanking the front door. "So," he quipped, "do you actually sit here, rocking the hours away, and watching the neighborhood children play?"

"Hours? No. But I do enjoy reading out here when the weather is nice." Lynn looked around at her neighbors' houses. "This is a great place to live, and I love the people here." She smiled as she turned to the door and inserted her key in the lock. "However, some of them are rather nosy, and, even though it is very late right now, I guarantee that there will be more than one elderly woman on my doorstep tomorrow morning trying to find out who you are. They won't have missed the car, or, more importantly, the suitcase."

"Well, then," Greg growled playfully as he put the suitcase down at his feet, "let's really give them something to talk about." He grabbed Lynn by the arm and spun her into his embrace. He crushed his lips to hers, turning their bodies so that they were in profile to anyone who may have been watching. Lynn moaned into his mouth, and Greg pulled her to him while ravishing her lips and tongue with his own. He let his hands roam freely over her back and arms, and when they finally separated, they were both breathing heavily, and Lynn's eyes were glazed as she looked into Greg's. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out but a small whimper.

Greg smiled and pressed his lips to her forehead. "You're welcome," he chuckled before releasing her and again picking up his suitcase.

Lynn took a deep, shaky breath, and turned back to the door where her keys still dangled from the lock. She turned the key, but before opening the door, she looked over her shoulder at Greg. A small grin graced her face as she teased, "I didn't know you were such an exhibitionist, Greg. Anything else I don't know about you?"

"Nope," Greg responded with a laugh, "and that's as far as I'll go in public. In private, however…" He trailed off and looked meaningfully at the door.

Lynn smiled seductively, opened the door, and stepped in. Greg followed and was about to put action to his words when suddenly a tan and black ball of fur raced through a doorway and skidded to a stop at the sight of a strange man in his mistress' house. A low growl came from the dog's chest, and Greg saw his hackles rise as he crouched down slightly.

"Rockie, no!" Lynn said firmly. "Sit! Stay!"

The dog immediately sat down at her feet, and the growl stopped, but his eyes never left Greg, and he could tell that the dog would attack at the smallest word from Lynn. She knelt down next to the dog and placed her hand on his neck.

"Good boy, Rockie. It's all right, he's a friend," she said gently. She looked up at Greg. "You can pet him if you want to."

Greg slowly walked to the dog, impressed that he just sat there, calmly watching. He put out his hand, the back of it toward the dog, and let him sniff it for a moment before cautiously placing it on the dog's head. He smiled when the dog immediately started to pant and shake with controlled excitement.

"Ah, you are his friend for life, now," Lynn laughed. "He can always tell when someone actually likes dogs and when they are just pretending, and he can tell you like dogs."

An answering laugh escaped Greg as he continued to pet Rockie. "Yes, I do. My apartment complex won't let me have pets, but if it did, I would definitely have a dog."

Lynn stood up, and Greg removed his hand, but Rockie stayed right where he was. "Wow," Greg said, "he's really well-trained."

"Yes, he is, although, I have to admit that most of that is him, not me. I've had many dogs in my life, but none have been as well-behaved as Rockie. He's incredibly smart, and just a great dog." She patted her leg, and Rockie immediately stood up and came to her. She ruffled the fur on his head and then said thoughtfully, "He has definitely helped me through some rough times." She smiled when she looked up at Greg. "Well, you've met all of my family here at the house, and it's late. I think you mentioned lots of sleep during dinner."

Lynn's words triggered a yawn in Greg, and he grimaced at the grin that broke out on Lynn's face. "Not funny, my dear, but you're right. I am exhausted."

"Let's go, then," she said, starting up the stairs in front of them. Greg picked up his suitcase and followed her into a large bedroom at the top. When Lynn turned on the lights, he saw a king-sized four poster bed with a cushioned bench at the foot of it in the middle of the room, a dresser with a large mirror to the left, and a door to the right. On either side of the bed were nightstands with lamps. The bed itself was covered in a beautiful patchwork quilt. Everything in the room looked to be very old, even antique.

"This house was built in the early 1900's, so there is no attached bath, but it's just down the hall to the left," Lynn said as she led the way into the room. She turned to Greg with a smile. "I had a nap today, so I'll let you get ready for bed first. I can wait without falling asleep." Her last comment was made after she saw that Greg looked like he would fall asleep on his feet. She took his suitcase from him and put it on the bench. "Greg? Do you want to wash up, or just go to bed? You look like you are about to collapse."

"I'll clean up first," he responded. "I'm not quite that tired." He went to his suitcase, opened it, and took out a small black bag. He gave Lynn a quick kiss before walking down the hall to the bathroom.

After completing his nightly ritual, he returned to the bedroom where he saw that Lynn was already in bed. The main light was off, and the only illumination came from the lamp on her side of the bed. She was sitting up reading a book when he entered, but she put it down on the nightstand and smiled when she saw him. He saw that she was wearing some sort of nightgown. He put his toiletries bag back in his suitcase before peeling off his clothes, placing them on the bench. When he was down to his boxers, he walked around the bed and climbed in. He groaned with pleasure at the feel of the cool, satin sheets, and he heard Lynn chuckle.

"What's so funny?" he asked, lying on his side facing her and propping his head on his hand.

"Nothing," she replied, turning so that she was in the same position facing him. She reached out her free hand and gently traced his arm from his shoulder to his fingertips.

Greg's eyes drifted closed at the sensation, and he found that he couldn't hold his head up anymore. He let it slide down so that it was resting on his arm. Lynn continued to caress him, and, try as he might, he couldn't keep himself awake; he quickly fell into a deep sleep.

Lynn smiled when she felt him relax and heard his breathing deepen. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead gently before running the backs of her fingers down his face. She was still amazed that he had done this for her. As she slipped out of bed and walked down the hall, she thought about how depressed she had been the night before.

After she and Greg had ended their conversation, she had simply laid her head on the desk in her study and cried for what seemed like hours. At that moment, she had missed Greg more intently than ever before, and had only wanted his arms around her, his gentle words in her ear telling her that he would take care of everything, that everything would be all right, and it hurt all the more knowing that it wasn't possible. She hadn't slept well at all, and so, when Greg called that morning, she was still exhausted. At first, she had been very upset when he wouldn't tell her anything about the surprise, but now, as she brushed her teeth, she realized that he had been a genius. Intentional or not, the fact that she had spent the day thinking about what was going to happen at ten o'clock had completely erased the previous day's events from her mind. She hadn't thought about the incident at the school even once since that morning.

She walked back to the bedroom and climbed into bed. Greg hadn't moved an inch, so she turned her back to him and scooted back so that they were spooning. She gently moved his arm so that it was draped over her waist and soon, she was as deeply asleep as he.


	33. Chapter 33

CHAPTER 33

Greg woke slowly the next morning, and it took a second before his sleep-fogged brain worked well enough for him to realize where he was. When he did, he smiled and looked to his left. The smile left his face, and he frowned when he saw that Lynn's side of the bed was empty. He sat up quickly, let the quilt drop to his waist, and looked around the room. The clock on Lynn's nightstand showed that it was a little after seven o'clock, and Lynn was nowhere to be seen, but the bedroom door was wide open. All of a sudden, he heard a door open and close downstairs. He heard the clicking of Rockie's claws on the hardwood floor and the soft sound of Lynn's voice. His smile returned as realized she had probably just taken the dog outside, and he settled back against the headboard and waited.

He didn't have to wait long, and after a few moments that were accompanied by various noises from downstairs, he heard footsteps. The smile grew when Lynn stepped into the room. She was dressed in sweats and a sweatshirt, and her head was down as she shook droplets of water from her hair.

"Raining outside?" Greg asked, gratified to see her head snap up in surprise.

She recovered quickly, though, and she smiled back at him. "No, it's snowing," she answered.

"Really?" Greg realized that he had neglected to check the weather forecast before he made his travel plans. "That's fantastic! I love snow."

"You do?" Lynn walked to her side of the bed, kicked off her shoes, and sat down, curling her legs underneath her. "I don't." She paused. "Actually, that's not entirely true. I like the snow; I just don't like the cold that has to accompany it."

Greg laughed loudly. He couldn't help it. "Wait, let me get this straight. You were born in Chicago, live in Colorado, are dating a man from Canada,.and you don't like the cold?"

"I know, I know," Lynn grinned, "I hear it all the time, and even I know it doesn't make sense. I love Colorado, though. It has beautiful scenery, which changes with the four actual seasons. Warmer climates don't have the definite differences in seasons that colder climates do. I love all the seasons here, even winter. It is absolutely gorgeous when the ground is covered in snow. I just hate being cold. That's why I have learned how to dress appropriately and complain a lot between October and April."

This last comment caused Greg to laugh again, and he reached out and pulled Lynn to him. "Well, I'll just have to make sure that you stay warm while I am here." He kissed her gently while moving his hand underneath her shirt. He groaned into her mouth when he realized that she had not put on a bra, and he cupped her breast in his hand. The kiss deepened, and he allowed his thumb to tenderly trace circles around her hardening nipple while his other hand found her hip and drew her even closer. Lynn moaned and swung her leg over his lap, straddling him. Even through the thick quilt, Greg knew that she could feel his arousal clearly, and he gasped when she began to slowly rotate her hips. He broke the kiss and looked deep into her blue eyes. "God, Lynn, I love you so much," he whispered.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, never ceasing the movements of her hips, and smiled. "I love you, too, Greg," and her hands slipped to the back of his head as she lowered her mouth to his. Greg was about to flip her over onto her back when the doorbell rang. Immediately thereafter, Rockie began barking loudly.

Lynn's mouth left his with a groan, and she buried her face in his shoulder. Greg chuckled and said quietly, "Maybe if we ignore them, they'll go away."

"Not a chance." Lynn's words were muffled as she turned her head and spoke into his neck. She kissed him quickly there and then pulled her head up. "Remember I told you about the nosy neighbors?"

Greg nodded, grinning widely.

"Well, that is probably at least some of them. They know I'm here. The car's in the driveway. At least we know it's not my kids. They rarely ring the doorbell or knock." She reluctantly climbed off of him and the held out her hand to him. "Come on, time to make yourself presentable. I didn't tell you last night, but many of the old ladies around here have been trying to play matchmaker since John died. I have told them numerous times that I was seeing someone, but since they have never seen you in person, I don't think they believed me." She smiled as he got out of bed, and she wrapped her arms around him. "Now that I have you to show them, I won't have to deal with that anymore."

Greg returned the embrace and gave her a quick kiss. "Well, my love, I am more than happy to help free you from the trouble of meddlesome neighbors." They were interrupted by another ring of the doorbell and another round of Rockie's barking. "Go," Greg said, the humor evident in his voice, "I'll be right down."

"I suppose I must," Lynn said petulantly, and she pulled from his embrace and practically stomped down the stairs.

Chuckling softly, Greg moved quickly to his suitcase and pulled out a T-shirt and jeans. Slipping them on, he then ran a comb through what little hair he had, grabbed his cane, and quickly went downstairs. He was surprised at himself. Normally, he didn't like attention, but for some reason, he had an intense desire to let everyone in Lynn's world know that she was his and he was hers.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he saw that Lynn was standing at the door, motioning two elderly ladies into the house. The stairs had a carpeted runner, and his bare feet made no noise, so they didn't hear him come down, but the clicking of his cane on the floor caused all three women to stop and watch him as he approached. He smiled and went straight to Lynn and placed his arm around her waist. He then looked down at the two ladies who were staring unabashedly up at him, scrutinizing looks on their faces.

Lynn smiled and finished ushering the ladies inside before shutting the door against the cold air coming in from outside. "Abigail, Maureen, let me take your coats."

"No, please," Greg said, stepping forward, "allow me." He helped each lady out of her coat and draped them over his arm. He suppressed a chuckle at the slightly surprised look the women gave each other, and he knew he was going to have some fun with this.

"Thank you, Greg," Lynn said. "You can hang them in the closet." She nodded her head toward a door to his right, and he quickly opened it and placed the coats inside. When he was finished, he turned back to the three women by the door.

"Let me introduce you all." Lynn held out her hand toward Greg. "Abigail and Maureen Bridges, this is my boyfriend, Greg Parker. Greg," she motioned toward the ladies, "Abigail and Maureen, my across-the-street neighbors."

"Pleased to meet you both, ladies," Greg said smoothly as he took each lady's hand in turn, giving them a small kiss on the knuckles.

They both smiled at him. "Pleased to meet you as well, Greg," Maureen said. "It's nice to meet a young man with old-fashioned manners. That is indeed a rarity."

"Unfortunately, that is true," Greg responded. "I truly wish it weren't."

"Please, come and sit down," Lynn said, guiding the women into her living room.

Greg followed and took the opportunity to look around at the house, which he had been far too tired to notice the night before. He saw that Lynn taste for antiques seemed to extend from her bedroom to the rest of the house as well. The couch and loveseat in the living room were made of what looked to be oak with a green plaid upholstery. The other furniture was also oaken, and there were many knick knacks and other curios around the room, both freestanding and in cabinets with glass fronts. Greg already knew that the house had hardwood floors; he had noticed that much at least, but he hadn't observed the braided rugs strategically placed throughout the rooms.

From the living room, he could see that the house had a surprisingly open floor plan. He knew that older houses usually had many small rooms, each with its own door, but Lynn's first floor was almost one big room, with the dining area and kitchen directly off of the living room. Off of the dining area was a sliding glass door, and Greg could see Rockie outside, looking in with a sad look on his face, snow beginning to build up on his head. As he watched, the dog shook the snow off, but, other than that, there was no other movement.

Chuckling, Greg joined Lynn next to the loveseat while the her neighbors took a seat on the couch.

"Would you ladies like something to drink? I've started water for tea," Lynn asked cordially.

"That would be delightful, dear," Abigail said, letting her eyes flicker over Greg at the same time.

"For me, as well, Lynn, if you don't mind," Maureen added.

"Of course," Lynn answered. "Greg, could you help me, please?" she asked, turning toward him. "I don't think I can carry everything back."

Giving her a grateful look, Greg nodded. "It would be my pleasure, my love," and he put his hand on the small of her back as they walked into the kitchen. As they walked, he bent down to her ear and whispered, "Thank you."

Pulling four cups out of the cupboard, Lynn was obviously trying not to smile. "For what, darling?" she managed with only a small catch to her voice.

"For not leaving me in there to be interrogated alone. I have enough elderly aunts and grandmothers to know that when old women have an interest in someone else's love life, they usually have no qualms about making that interest known." He glanced back at the ladies on the couch, who were intently staring at him as they readied the dishes.

Lynn chuckled and was about to respond when the tea kettle on the stove began to whistle. After taking it off and turning the burner off, she gently laid her hand on Greg's arm. "You are welcome. I know exactly what would have happened to you had I left you in there alone. You may be a big, strong policeman, used to dealing with robbers and kidnappers, but those ladies would have had you singing like a canary within five minutes." She smiled up at him before moving to pour the water for the tea. "Would you like tea or coffee?" she asked him. "I only have instant coffee, though."

Greg smiled as well, and then kissed the top of her head. "Tea is fine, thanks. Instant isn't coffee."

They finished preparing the cups, and then the two of them each carried two back to the living room. Greg noticed that the two ladies were still watching him. He gave them the cups in his hands while Lynn placed the other two on the coffee table before sitting down on the loveseat. Greg lowered himself down next to her and smiled at the two sitting across from them as he picked up his cup.

"So, ladies, are you sisters? I noticed you both have the same last name."

"Sisters-in-law, actually," Maureen said, sipping her tea. "We married brothers and became such good friends that when our husbands died, we moved in together."

"Really? That's fascinating." Greg meant it, and the ladies could hear it in his voice. He had never heard of sisters-in-law living together. "Do you both have families around here?"

Lynn smiled into her cup. She could see what Greg was doing. He was keeping up the questions so that Abigail and Maureen didn't think about questioning him. He continued this, asking one question after another as quickly as they answered, for about twenty minutes. Lynn thought that he had learned more about her neighbors in that time span than he had about her in the first week she was in Toronto. Eventually, though, Maureen seemed to understand what was happening because she firmly put her cup down on the coffee table and smiled at Greg.

"Enough about us, young man. We have some questions for you."

Greg inwardly groaned, but he gave Maureen a small smile and said, "Of course, I didn't mean to be rude."

"You weren't, but we didn't come here to talk about us," Abigail chimed in. "Now, Lynn has told us a lot about you, what you do and such, but my question is this," and she gave him a stern look, "what are your intentions regarding our Lynn?"

Greg raised his eyebrows and looked at Lynn. "Our Lynn?"

"Yes, our Lynn," said Maureen, bringing Greg's attention back to her. "We've lived across the street from the Mitchells for over twelve years, and they are all our family. Now, if you don't want to be rude, please answer the question."

Setting his cup down on the table, Greg turned toward Lynn and took her hands in his. He spoke to the Mmes. Bridges, but his eyes were on Lynn's. "My intentions, ladies, are completely honorable, I assure you. I love Lynn more than my life, and I will spend the rest of that life trying to make her the happiest woman in the world." He raised Lynn's hands to his lips and tenderly kissed them, his eyes never leaving hers. "I would die without her."

"Hmph!"

The sound startled Greg, and he looked across the coffee table, shock registering on his face. "Excuse me?"

"I said, 'Hmph!'" stated Maureen flatly. Abigail put her hand on her sister-in-law's arm, but Maureen ignored it. "If you love her so much, why are you living thousands of miles away from her?"

"Maureen," Lynn said, a tone of warning in her voice, "I already told you that we're working on that. We both have to make some major changes in our lives to be together, and that's going to take time."

"Dear," Abigail said, looking at Greg, "don't mind her. She's just a hopeless romantic, and she wants to see Lynn happy. We both know that she's not happy at all when she comes back from Canada, and I'm sure it will be just as bad when you leave to go back, but we both," and she gave Maureen a little shove with her elbow, "also know that you two are doing the best you can in this situation. Of course, the sooner it can be taken care of, the better, but don't you worry, we'll take care of our Lynn until you can permanently."

Maureen frowned slightly, but she nodded. "She's right, you know. I just hate to see how this separation is affecting Lynn. Neither Abigail nor I have children, and so Lynn and her family have filled that role for us. We just hate to see her unhappy, and that is how she feels every time she comes home."

Greg hung his head for a moment, attempting to control the emotions that were flowing through him, and then he felt Lynn squeeze his hands. He brought his eyes back to hers and saw that she had tears in her eyes. He sighed deeply and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her to him. Speaking once again to the women, he said, "Ladies, I understand exactly what you are saying. Our situation is killing me, too. I hate the fact that I can't be with Lynn every day, and I hate the fact that I have to spend my evenings alone when I know that the love of my life must do the same. That's why I'm doing all I can to work things out so that we can be together without either of us having to completely change our life. Although," he took a deep breath, "at this point, I'm willing to do that if that's what it takes."

Lynn inhaled sharply. "Greg!"

"I mean it, Lynn. If our plan doesn't work, and I don't get the job in Ottawa, I will do whatever it takes to be with you, even if that means moving here."

He saw Lynn's bottom lip start to quiver, and he smiled tenderly. Abigail must have seen it, too, for she stood up. "Well, Greg, Lynn, we've taken up too much of your morning. We'll be going now." She took Maureen's arm and pulled her to her feet.

Lynn took a deep, shaky breath and also stood, Greg following her up. "Thank you for coming over," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. She dropped Greg's hands reluctantly and led the ladies to the front door while Greg went to the closet for their coats. After helping the women put them on, they both turned to him.

"Greg," Maureen said, "I'm sorry for before. It was uncalled for. I truly believe that you do love Lynn, and I can see that you are good for her. I don't know if you've noticed, but her whole face glows when she looks at you."

"I agree," Abigail put in, "and I wish you both the best." She stuck out her hand. "It was very nice meeting you, Greg."

Greg took her hand and again kissed the knuckles gently before doing the same with Maureen. "It was a pleasure meeting you both," he said gallantly. "Thank you for watching over Lynn. I feel better knowing that she has such good friends to help her when I can't be here."

"Goodbye," Lynn said, as they walked out the door. The two ladies waved as they crossed the porch, and Lynn closed the door behind them. As soon as it was shut and locked, she turned and threw her arms around Greg. He felt her start to shake, and he quickly wrapped her in his embrace.

"Darling, what's wrong?" he whispered into her ear as he nuzzled her hair with his cheek. Lynn only shook her head, and Greg led her back to the couch, where he gently sat her down. "Talk to me, sweetheart. Why are you crying?"

"Because," Lynn managed, tears gently flowing down her cheeks, "I just can't believe that I have such a good man in my life who loves me as much as you do." She raised one hand and caressed his cheek. "I don't know what I did to deserve you, my love, and I am overwhelmed that you would leave everything behind for me."

Greg took her hand and softly kissed the palm. "My darling, I would do absolutely anything for you, for us." He sighed and pulled her to him, the familiar feeling of helplessness beginning to creep over him. "I can't handle this for much longer. I feel like I am slowly going insane, and that I will snap sooner rather than later." He hugged her tighter and said quietly, "Lynn, I'm afraid."

She pulled out of his arms and looked at him in alarm. "Of what?"

Closing his eyes, Greg thought carefully about his next words. "When you told me what happened at the school, I felt so useless. That helpless feeling quickly turned into anger, though - white-hot, raging fury. I managed to get to the SRU and pound away at a heavy bag until it disappeared, but it is getting harder and harder to control. I'm afraid that one of these days I will get so angry at our situation that I'll do something that I will regret." He sighed deeply. "I'm afraid I'll hurt someone like I did Marina."

"Greg, sweetheart," Lynn said, cupping his cheek in her hand and slowly tracing his lips with her thumb. "I don't think you're capable of that anymore."

"But I am!" he snarled, pulling away from her and standing up, turning his back to her as he did. "Don't you understand? Two nights ago, I wasn't punching a bag. I was beating that father into a bloody pulp for what he did to you. In my head, I was turning his face into something unrecognizable, and," he paused, clenching his fists tightly, "I was enjoying the fantasy!" He spun quickly around and faced Lynn. She slowly stood up, and he grabbed her by the upper arms. "I would kill to protect you, Lynn. I wanted to kill to protect you, and that scares me." He was breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating, and he spoke through clenched teeth.

Lynn looked at him intently, seeming to be searching for something in his face. Greg was shocked when he saw a small smile form on her face. "No," she said quietly, "you're not that man." When he frowned, she said quickly, "Don't get me wrong. I firmly believe you could and would kill for me, if necessary, but I also know that you are a good man, Greg Parker, and that you would only kill if it were absolutely necessary. Do you know how I know this?"

Greg silently shook his head, and she continued, "Because, even though you were so angry, you drove all the way to the SRU to take out your frustration on a bag. I don't know how long it took you to get there, but, if you were really losing control, you would have found someone or something closer to be your target."

Her words hit a chord in Greg, and it was as if something clicked inside his head. He had scared himself with the intensity with which he had pummelled the heavy bag, but he realized that Lynn was right. He had driven over fifteen minutes to get to the barn, and, even though the anger had simmered in him the whole way, he hadn't allowed it to boil over until he was safely in front of the bag. It was only then that he had let go and permitted himself to release his frustration and pain. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He held it and forced himself to calm down. Letting it out slowly, he opened his eyes and gave Lynn a small smile. "You're right. I did control myself that night more than I thought I did." He cupped her chin in his hand and lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle and loving, and she returned it just as gently. He raised his head and laughed softly. "How did you get to be so smart?"

Lynn smiled back at him and placed her hands around the back of his neck. She shrugged. "I don't know; maybe you're just rubbing off on me." She pulled him down again and kissed him a little more intensely than he had kissed her.

"Hmm," he hummed as their lips separated. He wrapped his arms around her and slowly ran his hands up and down her back. "Perhaps we can do a different kind of rubbing."

Her eyes drifted closed as he continued to caress her, and a small moan escaped her throat when he dipped his head and began to kiss her neck. He moved one hand underneath her shirt, slipping it around to cup her breast, as the other went around her waist and drew her closely to him. She moaned again, louder this time, as he began to grind his hips against her, His moans were soon added to hers when she reached between them and slowly began to stroke him through his sweats. He hardened instantly, and he started to push Lynn down on the couch when they heard the front door handle rattle.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Greg groaned, laying his head on Lynn's shoulder.

She laughed and gave him one last squeeze before backing away. "I guess it's just not meant to be this morning," she chuckled. "We'd better get control of ourselves," she continued as they now heard a key being inserted into the lock. "The only people who have keys are my kids."

"Damn!" he muttered, knowing that a certain part of himself was definitely not in control at the moment. "I'll be in the kitchen," he grumbled as he picked up the four empty teacups and saucers.

Lynn laughed again as he walked awkwardly away, hiding his discomfort behind the counter as he took his time rinsing the dishes. Just then, the front door opened, and James walked in.

"Hey," he said when he saw her standing by the couch, arms folded, "whose car is that? And why was the door locked?"


	34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

Lynn didn't move but only raised her eyebrows at her son.

He stopped in his tracks, his hand still on the doorknob. "What? What's going on?"

Lynn huffed dramatically as she answered, "Must you know everything about my life? Am I to have no secrets from my children?"

James heard the laugh behind her words, and he smiled as he shut the door behind him. "No, of course not. Mothers can't have secrets. Your life must be an open book to us all. Didn't you get the memo?" He paused before continuing, "So, who's here?"

Greg had been listening to the conversation while trying to keep from laughing out loud. At this point, he stepped out of the kitchen into the living room. "I am, James."

The look on James' face was priceless. He couldn't have looked more surprised if someone had dropped a million dollars in one dollar bills on his head.

"Greg? What are you doing here? When did you get here?" he began to practically babble out the questions.

Lynn chuckled at the bafflement that enveloped her son's face, while Greg lost the battle with himself and began laughing heartily. James' confusion quickly turned to consternation as they laughed at him. Lynn noticed this and went to him, placing her hand on his arm. "Darling, don't be mad. You just looked so surprised; it was funny." She glanced over her shoulder at Greg. "He flew in last night."

James looked at her, and a smile slowly spread across his features, but Greg could see that he was not completely okay with this situation. "Yes, I suppose it was funny," James said as he leaned over and gave his mother a peck on the cheek before walking over to Greg and holding out his hand. "Greg, it's good to see you, it really is."

Greg shook his hand firmly, looking him in the eye. "You, too, James. I must admit that I wasn't really expecting to see any of you quite this early today, but it's good to see you."

"Well, normally I would not be here, I'd be in Denver, but I'm on my way to the mountains with my friends, and I remembered that I left my parka here a while back. What with the snow, I am definitely going to need it."

"Oh, yes," Lynn interjected, "it's in the garage. I'll get it for you," and she disappeared through a door next to the stairs.

When she was gone, James looked at Greg appraisingly. He noticed Greg's casual dress and the bare feet, and he crossed his arms while leaning against the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. "Can I ask you a question, Greg?"

"Of course."

"Are you sleeping with my mother?"

The blunt question took Greg by surprise, and he simply blinked at first, but the quick-thinking negotiator in him pleasantly said, "Well, James, from my point of view, that is none of your business, so I'm not going to answer. If you'd like to ask your mother, that's up to you, although I'm not sure she'll answer you, either."

James' eyes narrowed slightly, and his mouth turned down into a small frown while he stood up straight. "I could take that as a yes, you know."

"I know you could, but, since I am neither confirming nor denying it, you'll never know for sure, will you?"

Another few moments passed while James stared at Greg. Greg simply stood, relaxed, staring right back at him. The men were about the same height, so neither had an advantage when it came to intimidation. Greg refused to be threatened by this young man, and James stood his ground as well. They stayed like that until they heard the garage door open and close, at which point, James broke contact with Greg's eyes and turned abruptly toward his mother. He walked quickly to her before she could take more than a couple of steps. He took her by the arm and turned her away from Greg.

"Mom, where did Greg sleep last night?"

The accusing tone of her son's words hit a chord deep within Lynn. She looked at him angrily and hissed, "First of all, that is none of your business. Second of all, we already went through this, remember? A few months ago we all sat down, and I told you we were involved? Remember?"

"Of course, I remember," James said with a huff, looking down at his feet, shame beginning to blossom, "but…"

"But what?" Lynn demanded, keeping her voice low so that Greg would not hear. "Did you think that I meant we would be like pen pals who just text and talk and Skype?" James kept his head down, but Lynn grabbed his arm. "Look at me, James." He slowly raised his head; Lynn could see the apology in his eyes, and she took a deep breath, calming herself. "I love him, James, as much as I ever loved your father, and I need you all to accept that." She laid her hand on his cheek. "Do you understand?"

James simply nodded his head, and Lynn smiled as she raised up on her tiptoes and kissed him on his forehead. "Good, because I want you to be friends. He is a wonderful man, James, and he makes me happy. I want you all to learn what a good person he is."

"All right, Mom," James sighed, "I'll try." His voice caught. "It's just hard, you know? I just miss Dad so much."

Lynn could feel her throat tighten as she pulled her son into a hug. "I know, darling, so do I. I will never stop missing him, but," she pushed him back and looked into his eyes, "I also can't spend the rest of my life alone. I don't want that, and your father wouldn't have wanted it, either."

James nodded again. "I know, Mom, I know." He sighed again and took the coat from her before turning and walking back to Greg, who had simply stayed where he was and watched the interaction between mother and son. James held out his hand again and smiled slightly when Greg took it. "It really is good to see you, Greg. Sorry about before; it's just…"

Greg stopped him, deciding that maybe a little intimidation was indeed called for. "I understand, James, I do," he squeezed the young man's hand tighter, pulled him a little closer, leaned close to his ear, and dropped his voice to a low hum, "but I need you to understand that I love your mother desperately, and I will do whatever it takes to make her happy. I happen to know that I make her happy, so I am not going anywhere."

James winced a little at the pressure Greg was applying to his hand, but he nodded. "Got it, Greg."

Greg stood up straight and dropped his hand. "Good, glad to hear it."

Flexing his fingers, James gave Greg a grudging smile. "Remind me to never really piss you off, okay?" He turned toward the door and gave Lynn a small wave before disappearing into the brisk October day.

Lynn stood looking at Greg with amusement. "What did you just say to him?"

Greg smiled enigmatically as he walked to the door and locked it. He then quickly covered the distance between himself and Lynn and gathered her in his arms. "I just told him," kissing her lightly, "that I loved you and that I was here to stay," He kissed her again, just a quick pressing of lips together.

"Is that all you said? It looked to me like you threatened him." She brought her hands to his neck and tried to pull his head down for another kiss.

Greg looked comically horrified as he drew his head back. "Threaten him? Never! I would never threaten any of your family." Then he smiled wickedly as he walked Lynn backwards until her back was against the garage door. "Intimidate a little, yes; threaten, no." The laugh that escaped Lynn was suddenly cut off with a moan when he moved one hand underneath her shirt and began to gently caress her back and side. "So, how much time do you think we have before James calls all of your other children, and we are inundated?" His hand came to a stop cupping the underside of her breast, and he flicked his thumb over a rapidly hardening nipple.

"Enough," she breathed harshly, "God, please let there be enough time."

His own breathing and heart rate speeding up, Greg said, "Maybe we should move this upstairs just in case. We don't want anyone else to walk in on us."

Quickly moving her hands, Lynn drew his T-shirt over his head, her words a mere whisper. "At this point, my love, I don't care." She lowered her head and drew one nipple between her teeth, tweaking it with her tongue.

Greg gasped and instantly pressed himself up against Lynn, forcing her upright, her back against the door. He raised her hands above her head and pulled her shirt off before applying his hands to the waistband of her sweats. He groaned deeply when he felt that she had gone commando when she had put her clothes on to take the dog out. He slid his hands down her hips, taking her pants with him until they dropped to the floor. She stepped out of them as she repeated the process with his jeans and boxers, and then Greg effortlessly picked her up, his erection pressing against her wet core. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he slid her down onto him while attaching his mouth to her breast.

"Oh, God, Greg!" Lynn cried out as he kept his hands on her waist and slowly begain to raise her up and slide her down. Soon, he could feel Lynn begin to tighten around him, and he smiled around her breast. He knew that he would be able to last a while longer, and so he began to slowly rotate his hips, still deep within her, and moved his hand between them to stroke her swollen nub. He raised his head and looked at the ecstasy on her face as he increased the speed and pressure. It didn't take long at all before her walls clenched and she screamed out his name. She threw her head back against the door and dug her nails into his shoulders, gasping for breath. When she came down from her orgasm, he again took her by the waist and resumed his previous slow movements.

Lynn moaned and leaned forward, needing to feel his lips on hers. He gladly obliged, and they devoured each other's mouth while Greg continued to slowly torture them both until he couldn't stand it anymore. He broke the kiss, crushed Lynn against the door, and held her still as his hips began to work furiously; he laid his head on her shoulder as he pounded into her.

"Lynn," he gasped, "oh, God!" He gave one last thrust, and his cries mingled with hers as they climaxed together. They stayed in that position, Greg's head on Lynn's shoulder and hers on his, until their breathing returned to a semblance of normal, and then Lynn unwrapped her legs from him and placed her feet on the floor.

Greg smiled, his eyes slowly opening. A thrill went through him when they locked with Lynn's and he saw her love for him shining brightly through them. "That was incredible, my love," he whispered, gently cupping her face and caressing her lips with his thumbs, "thank you."

Lynn laughed softly and placed her hands on his waist, admiring the way it tapered down to his hips. "Although I agree with you that it was incredible, I didn't do anything, Greg; that was all you."

"Well, then," he said, tenderly kissing her, "thank you for letting me do it."

She laughed again. "You are more than welcome, my love."

They reluctantly separated, gathered up their clothes, and went upstairs to clean up. By the time they descended the stairs once again, this time dressed for the day, it was about nine thirty.

"So," Lynn said as she went to the sliding glass door and let Rockie back into the house. That was as far as she got before being surrounded by a blur of tan and black. The dog ran circles around both of them for a few laps and then shook the snow off himself before he sat down at Lynn's feet, quivering with excitement.

Lynn and Greg both laughed, and Lynn reached down to pet the dog. Greg walked to the door and looked out. It was still snowing, but very lightly. There was about an inch of snow on the ground, and, as he looked out on her large backyard, he thought that it was absolutely beautiful. He had always loved snow, and, before his injury, he had enjoyed many winter sports - skiing, snowboarding, hockey, and others. Now, he was mostly relegated to just admiring the beauty of winter, although, he and Eddie had gone snowmobiling the winter before, and he had enjoyed that immensely.

As he stood watching the snow drift slowly to earth, he felt Lynn arms encircle him from behind. She laid her head on his back and hugged him tightly. He smiled and placed his hands over hers and then gently pulled her around him so that he could put his arm around her shoulder. She kept both arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, and they were content to just stay there, in each other's arms, and watch the snow fall.


	35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

An hour later, Greg and Lynn were walking hand in hand down her street, Rockie romping on his leash in front of them. The snow had stopped, and the day had warmed enough that the little snow that had stuck was already beginning to melt. The streets and sidewalks were already clear, and the front yards were not far behind. Greg expressed surprise at this, but Lynn informed him that there was a common joke about Colorado that mentioned going through all four seasons in one day. They reached the dog park four blocks away, and, once inside the fenced-in run, Lynn took Rockie off his leash and let him run free. There were five other owners there with their dogs, and Lynn introduced Greg to each of them, saying that she came there every Saturday she was in town, and that she had done so for about a year.

As they stood and watched Rockie play with the other dogs, Greg placed his hand around Lynn's waist. He breathed deeply of the clear, fall air, the scent of snow still noticeable. Thoughts raced through his head as he unconsciously responded to Lynn's words. He grunted suddenly when he felt an elbow in his ribs.

"What was that for?" he grumbled, turning his gaze to Lynn, who had a perturbed look on her face.

"You haven't been listening to a word I've said for the last ten minutes, Greg."

"Of course I have," he protested, as he racked his brain trying to think of what she had said last.

"Oh, really?" she smirked. "Then what did you just agree to?"

He stood there guiltily, knowing that she was right. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry, my love, you're right. I can't seem to control my thoughts this morning." He pushed her to arm's length. "You have my complete, undivided attention now. What did I agree to?"

An enigmatic smile lit up her face. "I don't know if I want to tell you. As retribution for ignoring me, I think I should just let you find out when it happens."

Greg let out a small laugh. "I suppose I deserve that, but I wasn't ignoring you, not intentionally, anyway. I just have a lot on my mind right now." He ran his hands up and down her arms and looked deeply into her eyes. "Tell you what, if you let me in on the secret, I promise not to block you out again while I'm here."

Lynn seemed to think for a moment, and then she nodded. "Deal." She raised herself up to place a kiss on his lips. Settling once again into his embrace, she said, "I was asking if you would be willing to speak to my students tomorrow. We have a morning assembly, and I think they would love to hear from you."

"Sure," he immediately responded, "I'd love to. What do you want me to talk about?"

"Just explain your background and job, and then answer some questions from the students."

"I can do that, but what I have to talk about would be specific to Canada. I don't know enough about U.S. law enforcement to know what the differences are."

"That's all right. You don't have to go into specifics. Just let the kids know what it's like to be a policeman. It'll be the whole school, from kindergarteners to high schoolers, so you can keep it simple."

The more they talked, the more excited Greg got about the idea. He had gone to a few school career fairs in Toronto over the years, and he always enjoyed getting young people interested in a career in law enforcement. After about twenty more minutes, Lynn called Rockie to her, hooked on his leash, and they walked back to her house.

Once inside, Greg helped Lynn remove her coat and hung it up in the closet along with his own. Looking at the clock on the mantel above the fireplace in the living room, he saw that it was a little after eleven o'clock.

"Do we need to do any shopping?" he asked as he followed Lynn into the kitchen.

"No, I don't think so, but take a look, and you let me know. If we need anything, I can run out to the store and be back in fifteen minutes."

Before they went on their walk, they had indeed gotten phone calls from each of Lynn's remaining four children, one right after the other. It was as if they had called each other first and figured out a schedule. Lynn fielded all the calls handily, and, in the end, it was decided that the three who were in town, John, May, and Rose, would come over to her house for lunch at noon. Greg was not looking forward to the interrogation he knew was coming.

He had agreed to cook, though, so he walked to Lynn's pantry and saw that it was very well-stocked. Then he went to the refrigerator and was pleased to see that his choices were equally as abundant. He glanced over the contents and quickly decided to make pasta primavera. As he took out peppers, carrots, and other fresh vegetables, he said, "It looks like I have everything I need." He glanced at Lynn as he put the items on the butcher block island in the middle of the kitchen. "Do you want to help?"

Lynn went to the refrigerator and pulled out a pitcher of apple juice. Getting a glass from the cabinet, she filled it and then placed it and the pitcher on the counter between the kitchen and living room before seating herself on one of the two stools there. "Nope, I want to watch." She put her elbows on the counter and laid her head in her hands, smiling brightly at him.

Greg laughed and proceeded to prepare the meal. He preheated the oven and chopped the vegetables, tossing them in a large bowl along with olive oil and herbs to coat them. He rummaged around in the kitchen until he found a suitable pan, and then he transferred half of the vegetables and placed them in the oven to bake. He set the timer for ten minutes and turned to Lynn.

"Well, that's it for right now. What can we do for ten minutes?"

"I want a fire," Lynn said, slipping off the stool and moving to the living room.

"That's a great idea; I'll do it," Greg started to round the corner.

"No, you're making lunch. I can make the fire," and she quickly began laying the wood.

He smiled at her authoritative tone and then reached into the cabinet to get a glass for himself. He filled it from the pitcher on the counter before putting the pitcher back in the refrigerator. He leaned against the counter while sipping the drink. A contented smile was on his lips as he watched Lynn quickly and efficiently light the fire. "That's impressive," he said, "a lot of people don't really know how to start a fire."

"Well," she answered without turning, "I've had a lot of practice. I've never lived in a house without a fireplace, so I've been doing this all my life." As the wood caught, she looked over her shoulder. With a smile, she crooked her finger at Greg and sat back against the couch, still on the floor, facing the fireplace, her arms wrapped around her knees.

He picked up her glass and moved into the living room. Setting both glasses on the coffee table, he settled himself on the couch behind her, one leg on either side of her. He laid his hands on her shoulders and began to gently massage them. A small moan came from Lynn, and she let her head fall forward onto her knees. Greg continued to move his hands, kneading her shoulders, neck, and upper back.

"Oh, Greg, that feels fantastic," Lynn's voice was muffled, and Greg simply chuckled without ceasing his movements.

They stayed that way until the timer went off, and Lynn's head came up. She started to stand, but Greg held her in place. "No, don't move; I'll be right back," and he kissed the top of her head before standing up and returning to the kitchen. He stirred the vegetables in the oven and then set the timer for another ten minutes.

Coming back to the couch, he resumed his former position. This time, Lynn stretched out her legs and wrapped her arms around his calves, resting her hands on his shins and her head against his knee. Greg leaned back against the couch and relaxed. He let his mind travel back to the thoughts from earlier at the dog park, the foremost among them being how tired he was of the emotional roller coaster they were on. He was determined to end it one way or another, and soon. He sighed deeply at the thought of once again being apart after such a short time together, and he began to feel the familiar anger begin to creep over him. He must have tensed up, for Lynn looked up at him with sudden concern.

"Greg, what's wrong?"

"Nothing new," he said softly, closing his eyes. He didn't open them when he felt Lynn leave the floor and join him on the couch. He simply reached around her and held her close, feeling her sigh just as deeply as he had.

"It won't be too much longer, Greg, I promise. We'll make it work out." Her words were optimistic, but her tone was sad, nonetheless.

_It will be sooner than you think, my love_, he thought to himself as he hugged her tightly.

They sat there silently until the timer again sounded, and Greg gently pushed Lynn away and stood up. She followed him back to the kitchen and once again took her place on the stool. They didn't speak as Greg turned the oven down to warm and started water boiling on the stove. Then he got the rest of the ingredients together and set them on the island. He glanced at the clock and saw that there were about thirty minutes before Lynn's family would be there.

Perfect.

Lynn noticed what he was doing, and said, "Greg?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you know that it takes longer for pasta to cook at high altitudes?"

"Believe it or not, yes, I do," he laughed, "but I appreciate the concern." Toronto was pretty much at sea level, and Grand Junction was at almost 4,600 feet above, so Greg understood where Lynn was coming from. "One of the classes I took mentioned the different requirements at different altitudes." He smiled at her over his shoulder. "I took that into consideration."

"Good," she smiled back. "I just didn't want your timetable to be off by too much."

The next twenty minutes were spent in silence as Greg worked and Lynn watched. It was a very comfortable silence, and the time passed quickly.

At about five till twelve, there was a knock on the door. Rockie bolted up from his position next to the fireplace and began barking furiously. Greg looked at Lynn quizzically as he drained the pasta in the sink. "I thought you said they never knocked."

Her face was just as confused. "They don't," she said simply. "Maybe it's someone else." She slid off the stool and went to the door and opened it. She chuckled when she saw her children standing there, looking like a group of miscreants who had been caught in the act. "What," she said, "did you all carpool?"

John smiled as he stepped through the door and gave her a quick hug and kiss. "Not exactly, although I did pick up Rose on my way here."

The others followed him, and Lynn accepted hugs and kisses from them all as Rockie pranced happily around the group. She smiled and laid her hand on May's swollen belly, the smile growing even bigger when she felt the baby kick. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a punching bag," May said with a huff. "I don't know how you did this five times, Mom. I just want you to know that my admiration for you has increased a hundredfold over the last two months."

Lynn laughed and closed the door as everyone took off their coats and hung them up.

"Wow!" Amanda exclaimed. "That smells fantastic!"

The rest nodded their agreement and started to walk toward the kitchen, but Lynn stepped in front of them and said, "Stop! He doesn't need all of you to swarm him right now. Rose, come with me, and help me set the table. The rest of you, you can say hello from the living room."

Greg had heard the entire exchange, and he laughed softly at Lynn's attempt to protect him. He watched with amusement as she walked into view and gave him a dramatic eye roll. Her family filed into the living room behind her and stood there, looking at him with expressions ranging from welcome to disapproval. He was surprised that the disapproving look was coming from Rose, and not John, and it heartened him to think that Lynn's oldest may have actually come to terms with their relationship.

The food was ready, and Greg wiped his hands on a towel while Lynn and Rose went to the cabinets to get out the dishes for lunch. Before they reached them, however, Greg stopped them with an outstretched hand directed at Rose. "It's good to see you again, Rose."

She simply looked at his hand until Lynn said softly, "Rose, manners."

The girl huffed and took Greg's hand. "Thank you," she said shortly without returning his sentiment. She turned toward the cabinet, took out seven plates, and carried them to the dining room table without another word.

Greg's eyebrows went up, and he looked at Lynn.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly, watching her daughter walk away from them, "she's having the hardest time of any of them with this. She was still so young when John died, and I think it will take her a while to accept the idea of us."

"It's okay, darling, I understand completely." Greg gently caressed Lynn's arm. She smiled sadly up at him, and then he helped her get five more glasses out of the cabinet while she got the silverware out of a drawer.

"Here, Greg, let me help you with those."

Greg smiled when John stepped into the kitchen and grabbed three of the glasses. "Thank you, John, I appreciate it," he said, taking the other two. They walked to the table and set them down.

That small interaction seemed to break the tension that had settled over everyone, and Amanda, May, and Ramon came over to welcome Greg, Amanda bringing Greg's and Lynn's glasses of juice with her. Lynn brought over the silverware and smiled when her family quickly took over the setting of the table.

"Thank you, everyone. Please, sit; we'll get everything else," she said gratefully.

They all did as she said, and she noticed that Rose sat as far away from their end of the table as possible.

She sighed as she and Greg went back into the kitchen to get the food, and Greg quickly pulled her into a one-armed embrace. "Don't worry, my love, she'll be all right."

"God, I hope you're right," she whispered.

Greg picked up the bowl of pasta while Lynn got the apple juice and garlic bread. They carried everything back to the table and set it down in the center, eliciting appreciative murmurs from almost everyone seated. Greg then held out the chair at the head of the table, holding it for Lynn, before slipping into the empty chair next to her. He chuckled when no one moved.

"Please, don't stand on ceremony because I'm here. Dig in."

May let out a small laugh, and since she and Ramon were seated closest to the bowl, she said, "Ramon, can you help me, please? I can't seem to reach anything by myself." Her belly prevented her from pulling up to the table completely, and to demonstrate, she held out her hand toward the bowl of pasta, and it, indeed, fell about four inches short of the dish.

Everyone but Rose laughed, and, once again, a threatening cloud was quickly dispersed. The food was rapidly distributed, and for a while, the only sounds were appreciative ones as they proceeded to eat. Eventually, light conversation began around the table, but no one asked any questions of Greg, which surprised him. When everyone was done, they sat back in their chairs, contented looks on their face.

"Greg, that was amazing!" May said at one point. "Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"Well," he said slowly, "I don't know how much you all know about my injury, but, after I was hurt, I got very depressed, and my therapist suggested an activity to help me cope." He shrugged. "That activity turned out to be cooking."

May looked at him intently for a moment before answering, "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Greg, I really am." She looked around the table and saw nods of agreement from almost everyone. Rose kept her eyes on her plate, but everyone noticed that she had eaten just as much as the rest of them, and just as eagerly. May went on, "We don't know all of the details, just that you were shot that day. I don't know about everyone else, but I'd really like to know what happened to you, if you don't mind talking about it." She again glanced at the others and saw the same accord.

"Um," Greg stopped and cleared his throat. He closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath before opening them again and looking around at Lynn's family. They were all looking at him now, even Rose, and he quickly decided that if Lynn and he were going to make a future together, her family had the right to know about him. "All right, but I must warn you that the details aren't pretty."

They all nodded their understanding, and Greg proceeded to tell them all about that day from his viewpoint - the original call from the 911 center that started it all, the bombs they diffused and failed to diffuse, the threat at the stadium, and the final confrontation between him and Marcus Faber, ending with his road back to sanity after being shot. The only things he left out were his close call with the world of alcohol and his assault on Marina. Those were two things that he had decided belonged in his past and would have no place in any future with Lynn.

When he finished, no one spoke. He inhaled deeply and held his breath as he calmed the turbulent thoughts that had filled his head while he spoke. He hadn't realized how much relating his experience to Lynn's family would affect him. He had told his story numerous times, but it dawned on him that this was the first time he had told people who were not already aware of most of the details.

Finally, Ramon broke the silence. "Wow!" he whispered.

Greg gave a bitter chuckle. "Yeah, wow," he grunted. He looked around the table and was expecting the looks of dismay and sadness and commiseration he saw on most of the faces, but he was shocked to see tears falling freely down Rose's face. His eyes softened, and he locked gazes with her, seeing the anguish in her heart clearly through her eyes.

Suddenly, she gave a great sob, jumped up from the table, and ran out to the backyard, keeping the sliding glass door open behind her in her flight. Everyone quickly stood, but Greg held out his hand.

"No, please, let me go talk to her," he said firmly.

John turned to him with a frown. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Greg. She hasn't exactly accepted the idea of you in Mom's life."

"I know," Greg said, but he also knew what he had seen in her eyes, "but I really think I need to do this." He stared out the glass door at the young girl who had escaped to the furthest end of the yard and was crouched down, her back to the house. Even from that distance, he could see her shoulders shaking with sobs. He looked down when he felt Lynn's hand on his arm.

"Are you sure, Greg?" she asked softly.

He smiled gently and nodded. "I'm sure; please, trust me."

There was still doubt in her eyes, but Lynn slowly nodded. "Okay, if you say so."

"Thank you, my love," he whispered and kissed her briefly before walking out the door, closing it behind him.

He stopped and looked at the figure huddled by the fence, and then he slowly walked toward her, his cane sinking into the small amount of snow still in the yard and through to the soft earth beneath. It wasn't doing him much good, and he stepped carefully, making sure his footing was solid. The last thing he needed right now was to slip and fall. His footsteps crunched on the snow, but Rose never moved. Greg positioned himself to her left against the fence, so that he was facing her. He was far enough away from her that she wouldn't feel threatened, but he was close enough that he could talk softly and still have her hear him.

"Rose?" he said gently. "Do you want to talk?"

She had hunched over into a ball, resting on her feet with her arms around her knees and her head tucked into her chest. She shook her head without speaking, which was exactly what Greg was expecting.

"Will you at least listen if I talk, then?" he asked. Her response was a single shoulder shrug, but Greg noticed that her crying seemed to be tapering off. He nodded to himself and thought quickly about how to phrase his words. "I know you loved your father, Rose, and you miss him, and I understand that you think I am trying to take his place in your mother's life, but I'm not. There will always be room for her memories of him in our relationship. I would never want to take that away from your mother, any more than I would want her to forget her parents or you or her hometown. He is a part of her and always will be, I understand and respect that. What I want you to understand is that I love your mother with every fiber of my being. I have never loved anyone as much as I love her, and I will never do anything to cause her pain."

"That's a lie."

The whispered comment brought Greg up short. "What are you talking about, Rose?" The girl shook her head again, but Greg could let this one go. "Please, Rose, talk to me. Why do you say I'm lying?"

Her head came slowly up, and Greg saw fierce anger darkening her blue eyes. For the first time, Greg noticed that she had the same brilliant eyes as her mother. She rose to her full height, which was only about five feet, four inches tall, but she stood straight as she faced him down. "You cause her pain all the time, Greg," she hissed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "Every time she comes back from Toronto, she is devastated. She cries and talks to May and John about how much she misses you. She doesn't think I know about it, but I do, and I hate you for it!"

Greg was stunned. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't his fault, that their situation left him no other choice, but he knew she wouldn't accept any excuses from him, and, besides, he wasn't sure he believed that himself anymore.

"You're right."

Rose stood stock still at his admission, and surprise was evident on her face.

He nodded and rubbed his head as he looked up into the cloudless blue sky. "You're right. I do cause her pain by letting her leave each time. I know because I cause myself the same pain, and, Rose, I don't think I can do it anymore." He brought his gaze back to the girl in front of him, but he didn't see her.

They didn't speak for several moments, and then Greg turned so that his back was against the fence. He looked at the house and saw Lynn standing at the door looking out at them. He sighed and closed his eyes, resting his head against the fence. "Rose?"

"What?" The word was clipped, but soft.

"If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell your mother?"

"No, I won't promise that."

Greg stood up and turned back to Lynn's daughter. He still saw anger, but it was not as fiery as before. "All right, I'll tell you anyway. After you hear what I have to say, you can decide whether or not you'll tell her or let me tell her, deal?"

She looked at him, distrust mingling with the anger, but she slowly nodded her head. "Deal. What it is?"

"First of all, I want to apologize. I thought you were angry because you thought I was trying to replace your father, but that's not it at all, is it?"

When she shook her head resolutely, he continued, "Well, I don't know how much your mother has told you about my possible career change, but…"

Rose interrupted him. "She told us that you might be moving to Ottawa, and May told me about her plans if you do. While I can't say that I'm thrilled about her moving to New York, I have to admit that at least she'd be happy."

"I'm actually really glad to hear you say that, Rose, because I think you'll be glad to hear what I have to say." He waited until she nodded and said, "Before I went to Ottawa for my interview yesterday, I gave my two weeks' notice at the college. At the end of those two weeks, I intend to move here. I already talked to the RCMP and told them that if I get the job I won't be able to start until after the first of the year, that I had some vacation time saved up and wanted to use it before starting a new job across the country. They said that was fine and wouldn't affect their decision one way or the other." He looked intently at Rose and risked a step forward. "Do you understand what I'm saying, Rose?"

She had a stunned look on her face, and it took her a moment before nodding. "You'd really do that for my mom?" she whispered, tears springing to her eyes and rolling down her cheeks.

Greg stepped even closer and gently raised a hand to wipe her face. "Yes, dear, I would." She shuddered at his touch, and he tenderly took her chin between his finger and thumb and brought her eyes to his. "But I have to admit to a little selfishness, as well. I wasn't joking when I said our separation pains me just as much as it does her, and I simply can't stand to be away from her any longer. Even the next two weeks are going to be pure hell, but at least I will know there is an end in sight."

Rose nodded and suddenly threw her arms around Greg's waist. He closed his eyes in gratitude as he gently held her to him. He heard the sliding glass door open, and he looked over toward the sound. Lynn slowly walked out onto the porch and rested her arms on the railing, a bright smile on her face as she watched them. He smiled back and then pushed Rose back.

"Are we good now, dear?" he softly asked.

She laughed lightly and nodded, a smile as bright as her mother's on her face. Suddenly, she sobered. "Greg, I'm sorry. I didn't understand the whole situation, and I blamed you for what I didn't understand."

"Don't ever be sorry for worrying about your mother and her happiness, Rose. I can't tell you how grateful I am that she has a family that loves her so much." He turned toward the house and draped his arm over her shoulder as they made their way back across the yard. Before they went far, however, he leaned down to her and whispered, "You're not going to tell her, are you?"

Rose laughed again. "No, Greg, I'll leave that up to you. I must warn you, though, I'm horrible at keeping secrets, so don't wait too long."

Greg chuckled and squeezed her shoulder.

Lynn stood up straight as they got to the porch, and Rose ran to her. Lynn pulled her into a hug as Rose said, "I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, sweetheart." She pulled back. "I take it that you and Greg have come to an understanding?"

"We have," Rose said simply, giving Greg a smile before entering the house.

Greg walked up the two steps to the porch and took Lynn in his arms.

"Greg Parker, you are a genius. How did you know what to say?"

He released her and gave her a short but passionate kiss. "I didn't. I found out that I was actually wrong about why she was upset."

"Really?" The incredulity in her voice was evident.

"Yes, really," he laughed. "It seems that I am not infallible after all." When she raised her eyebrows at him, he said, "I thought she was mad about me being in your life, but it turns out that it was the exact opposite. She was upset that you are sad whenever we are apart, and she saw it as my fault. After I explained the reality, she was okay with it."

"Wow!" She took a deep breath and looked back at the house. "Wait, exactly what reality did you explain? Did you tell her about New York?"

"I didn't have to; apparently May already did." He was about to elaborate when he was interrupted by a loud scream from the house and John's voice calling out.

"Mom, Greg, come quickly!"


End file.
